


astronomy in reverse

by chxrrybomb



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Anxiety, F/F, Lesbian AU, Soulmarks, Soulmate AU, TROPES FOR DAYS, coffee shop AU, everyone is a lesbian basically, fake names (nicknames?), half this takes place in a coffee shop and half in a bar, katya is the most clueless lesbian ever, lol we love versatility, mentions of pearlet and famelet obvs, some alaska/courtney, some biadore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25077706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chxrrybomb/pseuds/chxrrybomb
Summary: Katya is a barista and a college dropout with a life so boring that she can’t help but wonder if she'll ever meet her soulmate. When she meets a pink haired waitress at a bar she and her friends frequent after work, Katya realizes she might actually want this girl more than whoever her soulmate is, but then again, what does she know as a useless lesbian? Anyway, all Katya’s friends are convinced Trixie is her soulmate, but Katya thinks the theory is laughable. She’s notthatlucky.or, the one where they’re soulmates and have a Time™figuring it out
Relationships: Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova
Comments: 50
Kudos: 148





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> the fic started out as this prompt “A SOULMATE AU WITH NAME TATTOOS AND ONE OF THEM WORKS AT A COFFEE SHOP (KATYA) AND THEIR SOULMATE WITH A DISTINCTIVE NAME (TRIXIE) ORDERS SOMETHING” but the fic possessed me and it like, took some wild turns.
> 
> contains both povs but also because they don’t really know each other’s names for like 90% of the fic, they refer to each other in their narration with fake names. it’s weird. don’t be alarmed.
> 
> tbh this whole thing is a hot mess, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless. it’s my first trixya fic so feel free to let me know what you think!! (unless you’re gonna be an ass about it lol). i have it all written but idk when i'll update. i'm impatient and excited to share sooo realistically you'll have the whole fic pretty soon <3
> 
> title from "venus" by sleeping at last

> "I was a billion little pieces
> 
> ’Til you pulled me into focus
> 
> Astronomy in reverse
> 
> It was me who was discovered"

The name appeared on Katya’s collarbone when she was thirteen years old. It was a little later than most of the kids at her school, but she never minded not having one there. 

Her parents had always told her she would get her soulmark one day, and she never doubted them. She was nervous for the day it appeared of course, but nevertheless, she loved imagining up stories about finding her mark one day and showing it off with pride, or stories about who her soulmate could be—the way they would react when Katya’s name appeared on their skin.

She loved hearing her parents’ story, as well as the stories from her other family members. For the most part, they all had met and married their soulmates, so its a standard Katya expects (but doesn’t dwell on) for her own future.

Despite all the positivity about soulmates in Katya’s life, she couldn’t help but feel heavy anxiety at the very idea, as well as all the factors that define who makes a soulmate.

Her spirals were endless, marked by constant strings of questions that she logically knew couldn’t be answered. Would the sight of her soulmate’s name send her into an identity crisis? For instance, how gendered would the name be? The handwriting? Would it lead her to question everything about herself? What if it was a name that sounded older, like it belonged to someone a whole generation older than her? Would her parents hate her soulmate before she even found them based on the name alone? What if she couldn’t pronounce the name at all? What if the person’s handwriting was so messy she couldn’t even  _ read  _ it?

When she was done worrying about what kind of stress seeing the name for the first time would put her under, Katya moved into a new spiral of concerns. She could already see herself inevitably panicking every time she met someone with the name of her soulmate. Would it be a common name? What if it was someone  _ also _ named Katya? Would the name appear as a nickname and if not, how would she know it was them if they never went by their legal name? What if they  _ changed _ their name? Would it change on her skin too? Could the name belong to someone she already knows? What if it belongs to someone she’s already met but will probably never see again?

Her mom always told her she was being ridiculous, and Katya always knew it was true. Rationally, there was no point in worrying about a name she didn’t know yet. It could be that none of those things were true. “It won’t be that complicated, Yekaterina,” her mother told her, running a soothing hand down her back. Katya smiled at her, nodding and trying to trick her mind into agreeing, but she couldn’t shake the nerves altogether.

_ One day _ , she told herself.

And sure enough, one day she woke up, trudged into the bathroom to get ready for school, and there was the name, staring backwards at her in the mirror, written in what Katya can only describe as  _ cutesy _ handwriting, with little hearts dotting the eyes.

_ Trixie. _

It’s the prettiest thing she’d ever seen.

Immediately, most of her fears were quelled. She already knew she liked girls, and Trixie was clearly a girl’s name. It didn’t sound like it belonged to someone generations older, and of course, she rationalized that because her name came later, Trixie must be a couple years younger than her. She knows how to pronounce the name, and it certainly doesn’t seem common. It’s probably a nickname, but she doesn’t know what would happen if she stops using it in the future, or if she changes her name. And of course, she’s never met anyone named Trixie.

Katya takes a deep breath and keeps getting ready for school, thinking about the name for the rest of the day.

When she gets home and finds her mom preparing dinner in the kitchen, she skips over to her to tell her the good news. She tells her mom she was right about all the things she said not to worry about, and she presents some new concerns like, _what if I_ don’t _meet her?_ _How do I know when it will happen?_ And as her mom did before, she addresses all the concerns, settling Katya’s anxiety as best as she can.

“You won’t know when it will happen, Yekaterina. It could be tomorrow or it could be in fifty years. But rest assured, you will meet her one day. The universe wouldn’t bind people together only to keep them apart.”

And for a while, that was enough for Katya.

But eventually, life got in the way and the magic of having a soulmate started to fade, overtaken by the mundane life that comes with adulthood, and of course, seeing the reality of _soulmate_ _life_ day after day in the coffee shop.

Still, she holds on to her own soulmate’s name like a driving force. A secret that moves her from one day to the next. A promise that something hopeful is out there waiting for her. She thinks about her soulmate all the time. She always whispers a small good night to her just before slipping off into sleep, and a wish in the morning that she will have a good day. She still wants to meet Trixie one day, but given the monotony of her everyday life and her lack of resources and funds to travel anywhere, it seems like the kind of thing that really will have to occur by way of an actual, fate-ordained miracle.

Needless to say,  _ that _ sad truth really kills the magic the most. However, Katya doesn’t let that thought rule her. She remembers what her mom told her—that fate wouldn’t bind people for them to have no chance of meeting, and she hopes that’s the truth. If it is, she still has a fighting chance of at least  _ meeting  _ Trixie.

But day after day, Katya is faced with the weary truth: the amount of people she knows who have never met their soulmates. Her parents had met of course, and most of her family members, but none of her friends have been lucky enough to meet their soulmates, and she sees a lot of people come into the coffee shop that haven’t either. 

It is surprising—how popular of places coffee shops are  _ because of _ soulmate lore. Everyone says it’s because when the drinks are called out, it’s with a name, which is what draws people into coffee shops for hours at a time, ordering items every so often and staying in the shop for as long as they can stand. It’s a booming business, which Katya is pleased with. It means there are always plenty of hours for her to work and the pay is better than it would be if she were a bartender. In another reality, she’s sure being a barista would be miserable.

Although, sometimes (in this reality), it still is. Watching when the rare couple finds each other is sweet, but it always leaves her collarbone itching or burning for hours after, as if her body is telling her she  _ needs _ to find her soulmate and hold them close like the people across the shop are doing. But really, what are the odds? There are almost seven hundred  _ thousand _ people in Boston, and even if her soulmate lived in the city, there are hundreds of coffee shops. Trixie might not even  _ like _ coffee. Or she could work at her own coffee shop somewhere else, either in Boston or all the way across the country.

“Stop thinking about your soulmate,” Alaska scolds her, breaking Katya from her thoughts, which of course  _ were _ about her soulmate. She’s been on autopilot most of the shift, glad for being assigned to make drinks instead of talk to people, but she has a feeling that’s about to end. “We’re switching. I can’t talk to another person as long as I live.”

Katya rolls her eyes. “You’re so melodramatic. I thought you liked working the counter.”

“I  _ do, _ but I’m tired of people right now. And anyway, it’s not like guests won’t see my nametag when I pass them their drinks. Just make sure you don’t scribble on the cups like usual. It’s no good if I can’t read them and call the wrong name. You know how mad people get about that.”

“Yeah,” Katya says, finishing up the drink she’d already started. More people get angry about their name being called out wrong than they do about their drink being made wrong. She passes Alaska the drink and lets her call it out before she walks over to the counter.

Fortunately, it’s slow right now. They’re in between rushes, and it’s better to switch now because it means Katya can pass the counter position over to whoever comes in next. No one is at the counter when she assigns the register to herself, and she turns around to face Alaska, who’s leaning against the counter behind her. 

“Have you ever tried to find your soulmate on social media?” she asks, and it would seem out of nowhere except that Alaska always asks Katya stuff like this.

“No, I’ve never wanted to. How would anyone really know they were soulmates over the internet anyway?”

“Yeah,” Alaska says. “I think that’s why no one does that. But I do wonder if it would be worth it if your soulmate had a distinctive name…” she trails off, her eyes flickering to where Katya’s soulmark rests under her shirt. She doesn’t know what the name  _ is _ , but she does know that it isn’t common.

Katya shrugs. “Maybe, but it does feel like screwing with fate a little, doesn’t it?”

“It’s not any worse than all the people that stay in here for hours just to listen for names to get called out.”

“I guess not. Neither really have room for genuine connection.”

Alaska snorts, “I think I’ll just keel over the next time I have to watch someone run over to someone else because they have the same name as their soulmate. Talk about awkward. It makes me wonder if I would even approach anyone with my soulmate’s name.”

“You would,” Katya assures.

“You think? I haven’t yet,” Alaska admits.

The confession startles Katya a little, but she knows Alaska wouldn’t appreciate her pressing for information, so she continues with what she was already going to say. “Yeah, I mean, if you’re right, it would be pretty obvious. The connection. The handwriting. Plus your name isn’t common. Really it only gets cringy when both people have basic names.  _ John and Anna _ . Then they like, kiss thinking they’re about to go viral for finding each other in a coffee shop and have some magical heterosexual moment and then it just falls flat because they obviously aren’t soulmates.”

Alaska shudders. That was a real event that happened a few months ago when they were both on shift. It was one of the most uncomfortable things Katya had ever witnessed. “What do you think it feels like? When you know?”

Katya doesn’t answer. She doesn’t want to admit how much she has read online about the phenomenon and how many stories she’s spent hours reading on every forum she can find. She knows that it feels like a spark of completion when you finally touch your soulmate. Like your heart is soaring all the way up to the sun in such a way you hope it never sets. And if you’re kissing someone that isn’t your soulmate, it feels empty. It isn’t unpleasant per se, because plenty of people have relationships despite not being with their soulmate, but it isn’t  _ magic. _

The bell on the door saves Katya from Alaska repeating her question, and she puts her barista smile on and faces the door. The company has a name first policy (its part of the reason they’re such a popular shop, but the process always feels a little unnatural to Katya), so first, she gets his name:  _ Philip _ . She asks him to spell it to give him peace of mind, and makes sure to write each letter clearly before getting his coffee order and passing the cup to Alaska. “It’ll just be a few minutes,” she tells him, 

He mumbles a quick  _ thanks _ before finding a seat. She profiles him as the type that really does come in here for  _ coffee _ . Most people who come when it’s slow are, either because they’ve already met their soulmate or because they don’t care. 

A few more people come in and she repeats her process, trying to fall into a pattern as business picks up, and pretty soon, there’s an active line. Katya enjoys working with Alaska because the other girl can keep up with making drinks by herself, and Katya never has to jump in to help, and she also doesn’t need to worry about calling names out when no one hears Alaska, because Alaska is the loudest employee they have.

When Adore shows up at four o’clock looking like she just woke up, Katya tells her, “Hurry up and clock in. You’re gonna run the counter, okay? Make yourself some coffee while you’re at it. You look like you could use it.”

The younger girl groans, but complies, and soon enough, Katya’s able to step away from the counter, floating between taking the occasional order and helping Alaska make drinks as business gets even busier. 

Even after working here for almost three years, nights surprise Katya every time. Busy mornings make sense because people need their morning coffee, but night? It’s always more about the name calling than about the coffee, except for the few customers that work odd hours or the students who plan to be up all night studying and writing papers. Although, the students stick around regardless. Their reasons for being here are about school, coffee,  _ and _ names.

Katya can’t blame them. She would probably be in their position if she had decided to stay in school.

She dropped out just before she got the job at the coffee shop after her first year at university. It was a matter of not knowing what she really wanted to do with her life, and she figured before she poured all her money into an education, she should have some of her shit together. It felt like the right choice at the time, but lately she’s been wondering if she should have just picked something and stuck it out.

Still though, working at the coffee shop isn’t so bad. She loves her coworkers, she makes enough money to eat and pay her portion of the rent  _ and _ start a steady savings account, and it’s never really boring here, even if the only events of interest turn into cringefests that make both parties involved avoid this place like the plague. 

And yet, they’ll never run out of business.

The shift goes well and stays busy long enough that time flies by. All three of them stay to close up together before heading out. Sometimes they all go out for a drink together when it ends up being the three of them, but they can never stay too late, since Katya usually opens the coffee shop six days out of seven and Adore is always swamped with homework. Still, it’s nice to have time to do something fun even when it doesn’t last long.

Adore finishes her first drink before Katya has even  _ gotten _ hers, and she promptly orders another to take with her when they find a place outside to sit. Katya and Alaska both stare at her, mouths slightly ajar. “What?” Adore says, defensive. “I need this. You have no idea.”

When they settle at one of the picnic tables set up outside, Katya doesn’t hesitate to light a cigarette, as well as passing one to Adore when she asks. “Why do I feel like you’re  _ always _ out?”

Adore shrugs as she lights up. “College, you know,” is the answer she gives, and Katya nods. “Speaking of which, have you thought any more about going back?”

Katya laughs at the question, not because it’s funny but because it’s  _ ridiculous _ . It’s one of two things she thinks about literally all the time, and as she wheezes across from a startled Adore. Alaska rolls her eyes. “Here we go again.”

“What?” Adore asks, eyes wide like she’s afraid she just offended Katya or said  _ absolutely _ the wrong thing.

“Nothing, nothing,” Katya waves her hand, reassuring Adore before explaining, “I think about going back all the time. I just don’t know when I want to or what I would study or any of the important shit.”

“It’s so funny how the only two things you ever think of, you never do anything about,” Alaska says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Katya levels her with an equally unamused look.

“Wait, what’s the other thing?” Adore asks, still behind on the conversation.

“Girl,” Alaska says. “You know what it is.”

Adore pauses for a moment, taking another drag of her cigarette as she thinks. “Soulmates?” Alaska confirms the answer with only a smirk, and Katya feels the need to defend herself, even though Alaska has a really valid point.

“Yeah because there’s so much I  _ can _ do about it.”

Alaska opens her mouth, probably to make another smart ass comment, but Adore cuts her off. “You know, some would argue that working in a coffee shop  _ is _ doing something about it. I mean, obviously there are a lot of factors and your soulmate might not even live in the city, but you hear so many names day after day. It’s better odds than being like, a firefighter or something.”

Katya grins as she looks to Alaska, waving her finger around as she points it at Adore for emphasis. “See? She gets it.”

“Whatever,” Alaska says. “We’ll see if it ever pays off.”

They sit in silence for a few moments, finishing their cigarettes and sipping at their drinks. It’s a weeknight, so the bar is relatively quiet. There are only a couple of other groups outside with them, all of them spread out around the outside seating area. Things seem to be dying down inside as well, Katya notes as she offers to get them a second round (third in Adore’s case) to finish up the night. 

While she waits for the bartender to make the drinks, Katya is left with nothing to do but look around the establishment. They’ve come here many times before since it’s right down the street from the coffee shop, but they usually sit outside, and they never stay long or eat here. The thought hits Katya like a weird wave of unfamiliarity. They’re regulars, yet they don’t know the names of anyone who works here. It’s unusual since the whole world seems to be so fixated on names.

She turns to look at the bartender, her eyes searching for a nametag, but she doesn’t find one. It surprises her so much that she finds herself commenting about it outloud. “Do you guys not wear nametags here?” She winces as soon as she asks the question, aware of how it probably sounds, but to her relief the bartender laughs.

“Are you kidding me? Never. It’s a bar, you know?” Katya frowns. “The last thing any of us need are drunk men trying to pretend we’re their soulmates just so they can screw us. You’d be surprised how often that happens.”

Katya is both stunned and fascinated at the information, and she’s sure it shows on her face. “I’ve never thought about that before. I work at a coffee shop, and those places are all names, all the time.”

“Oh, is it the one down the street? I see you and your friends here a lot.”

“Yep, the very one,” Katya confirms. 

The bartender nods. “Well, you don’t seem like the type who would try and scam me, so…my name’s Courtney,” she introduces.

“Your secret is safe with me, stranger,” Katya salutes. “Are you Australian?” 

“Born and raised,” Courtney says, setting the second completed drink down before turning to start on the third, Alaska’s complicated specialty drink. She’s always so extra, Katya thinks. She considers making a joke to Courtney at Alaska’s expense, but ultimately decides against it. Instead she looks around again, thinking that maybe they should come in one of these days and dine in. Become regulars that aren’t just  _ those people _ .

Courtney sets Alaska’s drink down then, completing the set. “Now  _ that one _ ,” she says, making a pointed glance at the drink before looking back up at Katya, “is interesting.”

“The drink or the person who orders it?” she asks.

“Definitely both,” Courtney says, wiping her hands off on a stray towel. She starts to walk away, and Katya experiences a moment of social panic, since she had brought in the money to pay for everything now, but her mind is silenced when one of the servers comes over to the bar to drop off some dirty glasses. “You outta here?” Courtney asks her, and the server groans. 

“I’m just waiting on table ten to cash out and leave so I can clean their shit up. And I still haven’t rolled my silverware, so,” she shrugs, finishing her sentence without actually finishing it. Katya knows she shouldn’t stare, especially not when she should be making her way back outside, but she can’t stop.

The server in front of her is easily the most beautiful woman Katya’s ever seen in real life. She’s tall, has pastel pink hair, and has the body of an actual  _ goddess _ . She’s wearing more makeup than Katya’s ever seen one person wear, and although Katya has no doubts that her natural beauty would be just as stunning, she looks amazing with it as well. Katya wonders if maybe she’s new here? Surely she would have  _ noticed  _ her before, especially since even now, she can’t tear her eyes away. 

Unfortunately, the server and the bartender notice her remaining presence and they stop talking and turn to stare at her in unison. Katya looks back at Courtney, intimidated by the waitress’s eyes on her. She’s sure that if they were to make eye contact, Katya would melt on the spot. “I’m sorry,” Courtney apologizes sweetly. “Did you need something else? I should have asked.” 

She doesn’t sound or look annoyed, which Katya appreciates, but still, it would be a miracle if she were to be able to actually use words right now, of any language, so she just sets some bills down on the counter without counting them out or asking for the total. She knows it’s going to be more than enough to cover it, but she can feel the both waitress’s soft brown eyes on her as well as the room shrinking in around her. She needs to get outside.

“No change,” she manages to say, watching Courtney’s eyes widen as she looks at the money. The other girl mutters  _ damn _ , and Katya wonders how much she actually gave her. “Uh, thanks,” she adds with a nod at Courtney, hoping it’ll make things a little less weird. She can still feel both eyes on her as she stands up from the barstool, picking up the three drinks as gracefully as she can without spilling them.

“Do you want some help?” The server asks, and Katya’s face feels like it’s an inferno. She forces herself to smile in her direction and shake her head  _ no _ before making a mad dash for the door.

“Thank you, um…” Courtney says, trailing off when she realizes she doesn’t know Katya’s name, but by the time Katya realizes she should have shared it at their introduction, she’s already on her way outside and too embarrassed to look back.

She thinks about the nameless, pink-haired waitress for the rest of the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, thank you everyone for your support and excitement for this story! omg i'm over the moon about people being as excited about this fic as i am. anyway, i had so much fun with this chapter (probably too much tbh) and i hope you guys enjoy it! thanks for reading :)

The next week feels like a blur. 

There isn’t much that happens in Katya’s life that shakes her up. Her days are a lot of the same. Yoga, work, drinks with friends, sleep, repeat it all again tomorrow.

But that night at the bar last week has awakened a new level of anxiety she didn’t know existed within her, and while it’s nice to have something to think about other than school or soulmates, it feels like her world is spinning in the opposite direction all of a sudden.

Alaska notices, of course. “Girl what’s wrong with you? You’ve been acting weird all week.”

“You always tell me I act weird,” is Katya’s rebuttal. “And I always tell you that you have no room to talk, you weirdo.”

“Whatever. Adore agrees with me, don’t you?”

Adore looks up like a deer caught in the headlights. She doesn’t need to say anything for Katya to know Alaska’s telling the truth and Adore seems to sense that. “Sorry,” she says, but she doesn’t sound sorry at all. “Anyway, it’s Friday night. Can we hurry up and close so we can go get drinks? I don’t have that much homework this weekend and I wanna have fun.”

Katya freezes up. “Um, okay,” she says, helplessly looking around at the small amount of duties they have left. For the first time ever, she wishes there was more so she could put off leaving. Maybe they could go somewhere different this time so Katya can’t risk embarrassing herself in front of the pink haired goddess again. But then again, maybe seeing her would be good. It’s not like they have to interact.

“If we hurry we can get there before they close the kitchen. I’m fucking starving.”

The idea of dining in and getting food there has two entirely different effects on both Alaska and Katya. Alaska seems to move in full power mode, practically running to collect the trash and drag it out to the dumpster, while Katya stops sweeping altogether. “Hurry up, bitch” Alaska half yells at her before running out the door with a trash bag in each hand. She’s  _ literally _ running this time, and Katya has to admit it’s a little alarming to witness.

In the end, it doesn’t matter how slow she would have moved, because they get to the bar with over an hour to spare. The kitchen stays open later on the weekends, and their coffee shop closes early, so really, this situation was inevitable. 

The bar is still busy enough to have a hostess seating people, so when they walk in, she smiles at them and leads them with three menus to a table. It takes Katya all of two seconds to spot a head of pink hair across the room. What if they end up in her section? Katya could stare at her all night without it being  _ too _ weird, but also, she would have to  _ talk _ and make eye contact. Fuck, she needs a cigarette.

“Um, actually,” Katya says when the hostess stops at a table. “Could we sit outside? Sorry, I just—” 

“Oh, yeah, sure,” the hostess says, unphased by the late request. They’re already close to the door, so it’s a short walk until they’re at a new table, this time outside. Katya is already smoking before the menus get set down in front of them. “Your server will be with you in just a moment,” she says before heading back inside.

Adore stares at Katya, looking concerned. It makes sense, given that Katya’s already inhaled half of her cigarette. “Are you okay?”

“Mhm,” she answers, her lips around the stick as she takes another drag. “I didn’t take a lot of smoke breaks today and I guess it just kind of hit me at once.” The answer seems to satisfy them and they turn to their menus, Adore reaching for the drink menu first. 

“Do you guys need this?” Adore asks before flipping through it. Katya shrugs, saying that she could just look through it from beside her.

“You already know I don’t,” Alaska says.

Adore rolls her eyes, “Girl, I bet the bartenders here hate you for that drink.” Alaska glares at Adore over her menu, but shrugs the comment off. She’s not one to care about things like that, which Katya is always jealous of in social settings.

“Last week the bartender said it was interesting, and that you were too for ordering it. I can’t speak for the others though.”

“Well, then I hope it’s the same bartender tonight,” Alaska says. “If it’s that one I’m thinking of, she always does a good job. That one girl who’s probably high all the time always adds too much peach schnapps and fucks the ratio up.”

Katya’s about to say something about how she thinks it’s the same bartender, Courtney, but before she can, their server arrives at the end of the table. Somehow, she knows exactly who it is without needing to look up, but she does anyway out of habit. She stops breathing when she sees the pink haired waitress from last week smiling down at her. “Hello, I’m gonna be taking care of you guys tonight. You’re really lucky to have me because I’m the best server this place has, and I never take outside tables,” she says, and her level of confidence  _ floors _ Katya. She flips her pink ponytail back. “You’re the exception.” Her eyes are on Katya as she says it, with a look Katya interprets as  _ I remember you tipping Courtney really well last week, so I wasn’t about to let this opportunity escape me _ . 

Honestly, it’s a valid thought.

“If you already know what you want to drink, I’ll go ahead and get those started for you.”

Katya already knows they don’t really do names here and  _ why _ , but she can’t help but wonder, “What do we call you?” because she can’t handle referring to her as  _ the pink haired eighth wonder of the world _ for another second. She’s still thinking about how to ask when she realizes she already did. Everyone at the table looks surprised, their server less so. She probably gets this all the time. “Sorry, you probably get that all the time. I know you don’t like, do names, but um…” she trails off, deciding to stop talking altogether.

Their server smiles, “Thanks, um, yeah. I don’t tell guests my actual name. You know,” she waves the hand she’s holding her pen with. “Everyone here just calls me Tracy. I hate it but I hate being hit on by drunk men who tell me I’m their soulmate even more, so.” 

“Wow, people do that?” Adore asks. “What a bunch of scumbags.”

“Yeah, it’s so annoying,”  _ Tracy _ says. Katya stares at her, wishing she knew her real name instead of one she apparently hated to be called, but still, it’s better than nothing. “It happens all the time, honestly, but it’s better when the name they think is real is completely fake. Plus I don’t want my name in their mouth.”

“Fair enough,“ Alaska says. “Men are trash. Anyway, I know what I want to drink,” she says before listing it off the same way she always does. It sounds even more complicated than it is, and Tracy just stares at her, not writing anything down.

Katya would laugh at her expression if the situation didn’t feel so uncomfortable. Plus, she can relate to being irritated at having to write down a needlessly complicated drink and have to re-explain it to the person who has to make it. “If Courtney’s bartending, she’ll know how to make it. We talked about it last week.” Tracy looks surprised that Katya knows Courtney’s name, but doesn’t comment. “Just,” Katya continues as she looks over at Alaska, “maybe you can write it down for her. And give it some kind of name since you’re always asking for it.”

Alaska is staring at her with an odd expression, and Katya’s forehead creases. She’s about to say something else when Tracy rips off a guest check and sets it in front of Alaska with a pen. “Sure,” Alaska says, writing it all down before passing it back. 

“You didn’t name it,” Tracy notes.

“Oh, yeah, I didn’t know what to call it.”

Adore snorts, “You always said you wanted a drink named after you. This is your chance.”

“Umm. I don’t know.” 

“Girl, it’s not that hard to name a drink,” Tracy comments. “But Courtney does it all the time. I can ask her for some ideas. What’s your name?”

“Okayy,” Alaska says. She looks at Katya and Adore before looking back up at Tracy. “My name’s Alaska.”

Katya’s eyes have been on Tracy ever since Alaska broke eye contact with her a moment ago, and she wonders for a few abnormally long seconds if the world has frozen in time. Tracy hasn’t so much as blinked, her eyes unwavering from Alaska’s, and her mouth hanging open. It’s not unusual for people to react like this to Alaska’s name, given how unique it is, but usually they’ve said something by now. Adore shifts on the bench next to Katya.

“Your name is Alaska?” Trixie asks, but her voice is deadpan. “Alaska?”

“Uh, yeah.” Katya can tell Alaska’s starting to get nervous, and she looks away for a second. “There are probably a lot of options for drink names. I mean, more than like, if my name were fucking Karen. But if no one can think of anything we can just call it like,  _ anus _ or something.” 

Tracy’s unnatural silence is shattered then, and she laughs in what sounds more like a scream than a laugh. Adore jumps, startled, and some of the other outside guests look over either alarmed or irritated, but Katya just smiles, thinking it’s probably the greatest laugh she’s ever heard and she starts mentally going through all her dumb jokes just to be the cause of that banshee laugh. “Oh my god,” Tracy finally says. “Anyway, what about you two?” 

Adore and Katya order their drinks, and Tracy tells them she’ll be right back with them before disappearing inside.

For a moment, no one says anything, and Alaska is looking blankly at the menu, now resting on the table in front of her. It’s unusual to see her so quiet, and Katya and Adore exchange glances before Katya finally asks, “Hey, are you okay?”

Alaska looks up but doesn’t answer. Instead she asks, “The bartender’s name is Courtney?” 

“Yeah,” Katya says. “I talked to her last week when she was making our drinks. I don’t think I was supposed to tell you her name, but I don’t think she would mind. I mean, she said she recognized us after all this time, and your drink of course.” Katya feels like she’s done a good job explaining everything, but Alaska is still looking at her with that same unreadable expression. It’s quiet for too long, just like earlier, and then finally, Alaska stands up and raises her shirt over her abdomen for the other two to see the name marked just underneath her ribs in intricate cursive. 

_ Courtney _ .

“Wow,” Adore says. Katya doesn’t know  _ what _ to say. Alaska has never talked about her mark before, and she’s certainly never shown it to them. It’s covered up only seconds later, and Alaska sits back down, avoiding eye contact with both of them.

“It was weird, the way our server reacted when I told her my name. I don’t know. I just have a weird feeling. Like, I’m kind of dizzy. I need some air,” she says, but she doesn’t move.

“We’re already outside,” Adore reminds her. Alaska nods.

Katya’s shocked by this turn of events. Tracy’s reaction to Alaska’s name really  _ was _ unusual. They hear people talking about Alaska’s name day after day at work, asking her if it’s real, but no one has ever frozen in time over it before. “What are you going to do?” Katya asks. 

Alaska shrugs. “I’ll probably order a cheeseburger.”

The conversation ends there, and neither Adore nor Katya want to push her, so they both look over the menu so they know what to order when Tracy comes back, all the while, cautiously glancing up at Alaska, who’s still sitting in the same position, staring at the same spot on the menu.

A few minutes later, Tracy comes back out with their drinks, carrying them with twice as much poise as Katya had the week prior. She sets them all down before passing them out, announcing them by name as she does, saving Alaska’s for last. “And finally,  _ Alaskan Vacation _ ,” she announces, setting Alaska’s drink down in front of her with its official new name. She sits in the empty space on Alaska’s side of the table before asking “What do you think?”

“It’s good,” Alaska mumbles before taking a sip. 

“Personally, I wanted to call it  _ Alaska’s Anus _ , but Courtney told me it had to be  _ pretty _ .” Katya is holding her breath at this information, and she’s pretty sure Adore and Alaska are too. “So  _ she _ picked the name.” There’s another pause, and Katya’s eyes shift between Alaska and Tracy. “She wants to meet you, by the way,” she adds casually, like maybe Courtney just wants to meet her because of her drink or something equally as casual, but Katya knows better. “We’re both closing tonight, so. Maybe you’ll get a chance. But if not, you know where she works.”

“Sure,” Alaska says. “Can I go ahead and order another drink?”

Tracy nods and writes it down. “Do you already know what you want to eat? That way I can get it in as soon as possible. Willam gets an attitude if I wait too long.”

They place their orders one at a time, starting with Alaska and ending with Adore. Tracy sits with them at the table the whole time, and Katya has a momentary realization that she hasn’t done anything horrendously stupid this whole time. Maybe this is fine after all. Maybe she’s realized that Tracy is just another beautiful human person and there’s no reason why Katya shouldn’t be able to breathe around her like a normal functioning individual.

But then she looks up. They make eye contact. A shiver goes down Katya’s spine and it feels like all her internal organs are setting off fireworks like it’s new year’s eve. Tracy stares at her for another moment and then stands up. She looks flustered, but Katya thinks she’s just imagining things. “Um, I’m going to put your food in,” she says before walking off once again, quicker this time.

Adore is the only one who doesn’t seem impaired by this entire outing so far. Alaska looks shell shocked, and Katya starts smoking another cigarette. “Okay what’s happening?” the younger girl asks. “I know Alaska's soulmate might be inside, but what’s your deal?” she asks, nudging Katya.

“She’s really pretty,” Katya says before she can stop herself.

“Who? Alaska’s soulmate?”

“No. I mean, yeah, she is, but I’m talking about Tracy. I wish I knew her real name.”

“Ask her out then,” Adore shrugs. “I know you haven’t really been into dating people that aren’t your soulmate lately, but like you said, you don’t even know her real name.”

Katya sighs. Before, she’d had no problems sleeping around with whoever she wanted to, soulmate or not, but with each year it became less interesting, less fun, and all around less fulfilling. It was like instead of filling the void, it just made it bigger. She didn’t want to go there again, especially not with someone who clearly deserved more than Katya could offer. But then again, she could probably use this conversation to her advantage. “I might, but only if Alaska asks Courtney out.”

Alaska finally snaps out of her silent stupor. “What? Are you serious?”

“Of course,” Katya shrugs. “It’s only fair.”

“Actually it’s not,” Alaska says. “You know my soulmate’s name and have an actual idea of who it is, but I don’t even know your soulmate’s name. Just that you want to fuck our waitress.”

Katya’s eyes widen, and she turns around to make sure Tracy isn’t somehow right behind the table. It would be just her luck. “I didn’t say that,” she says. “I said she’s pretty, and that I might ask her out if you asked Courtney out. Like, on a proper date.”

“Tell me your soulmate’s name first.”

“What? Why?”

“I want to make it fair. Tell me her name and I’ll ask Courtney out.”

Katya doesn’t say anything, and thus begins the biggest staredown they’ve ever had, probably. Adore is likely living for all of this, but Katya isn’t about to break eye contact just to confirm that. Honestly, she doesn’t want to cave. Not in the staredown of course, but mostly not in this deal she hadn’t anticipated. The only people who know her soulmate’s name are her parents and her childhood best friend that she hasn’t talked to in nearly a decade. It’s not like she has any reason not to tell people, but it’s nice to keep the name to herself. She doesn’t want to lose any more of its magic by sharing the name, not even with her closest friends.

But it’s a little ridiculous, and she knows it. Especially when Alaska just showed them her mark despite being so adamantly against doing so.

“Hey, I can show you guys mine too. If it makes you feel better,” Adore offers, looking mostly at Katya. She nods in response. It really would make her feel better. “I’ve never shown anyone. My mom saw it when I first got it, but other than that…” Adore trails off, suddenly hesitant, and Katya can tell she’s telling the truth. Adore has to stand to show her mark too, except instead of lifting her shirt like Alaska did, she pulls her leggings down just enough to expose her hip bone, the name bold against her skin. It’s in big block letters.  _ BIANCA _ .

Adore eyes them both to make sure they’ve seen it before readjusting her leggings and sitting back down. She smiles. “It feels good to have shown you guys. I feel like we’re closer now.”

Katya smiles, but it probably looks like a grimace. She knows Adore has a point, and hopefully she’ll feel the same about having shared her name, but right now, the anxiety is cancelling all her other feelings out. “It’s okay,” Alaska tells her, and she sounds like she really means it. 

“Yeah,” Adore says. “We’re already a team. This just makes it official.”

“Okay,” Katya says, more to herself than the other two. She has to angle herself towards Adore in order for them both to be able to see the name clearly, but as soon as she’s in position, she pulls her shirt down on her shoulder far enough to expose her collarbone. She lets them stare for a few moments before fixing her shirt. 

As soon as she does and before anyone can say anything, Tracy approaches their table. If she noticed what they were doing, she doesn’t say anything, although she  _ does _ look curious, Katya thinks. She’s about to set down the round of drinks (apparently she went ahead and got a second for everyone) when Adore, who’s still turned mostly towards Katya blurts out, “That’s such a pretty name though,” and it’s all Katya can do to not crawl under the table. 

“Well I know you’re not talking about  _ Tracy _ ,” the waitress jokes from where she’s standing, and Adore covers her mouth in surprise. She had no idea Tracy was even there. 

“Uh, no. I was talking about um… Alaska’s drink?” It’s not convincing, and everyone knows it.

“Sorry for interrupting. I brought you all another round. On the house,” she doesn’t pass out the drinks this time. She just stands in front of them awkwardly with her hands folded in front of her. “Well, I guess I’ll go wait for your food to come up.”

She’s barely turned away when Alaska suddenly throws out, “You could stay. If you want.” Katya wants to kick her under the table. 

“Unless you have other tables,” Katya says instead.

Tracy smiles at her. “That’s very considerate of you, but actually, you guys are my last table. I mean, I have one inside that’s still sitting, but they already paid. I’m just waiting on them to fuck off and leave.” As she says that, the back door opens and a loud group of guys walks out. One of them winks as they walk by and Tracy grimaces. “Just kidding. They’re gone now.”

“Well,” Alaska says with her classic Alaska drawl, “if you want to sit with us for a little bit, you totally can.” She glances at Katya, her expression screaming  _ mischief _ . “We don’t bite. Well, maybe that one does.”

To Katya’s horror, Tracy follows Alaska’s gaze until she makes eye contact with her. A volcano explodes in Katya’s chest at the expression on Tracy’s face, almost like she’s happy to hear it. “Wow, finally. An offer I can’t refuse,” she says, sitting down next to Alaska, her eyes locked on Katya’s the whole time. To her credit, Alaska looks thrilled.

“So  _ Tracyyy _ ,” Alaska starts, “how long have you been working here?”

“Way too long,” she answers. “But it’s good money, you know. And its easy to work shifts around my school schedule.”

“You’re in school too? Same, girl,” Adore says. 

“What are you studying?” Tracy asks her,

“Music.”

“No way, me too!”

“Party!”

“So,” Alaska starts again, ignoring the ongoing conversation, “we have a fake name to call you. Does that mean we should give you fake names to call us? Or, you know, real ones, since everyone here already knows mine?” This time Katya really does kick her under the table. “Ow,” she says, probably just for the sake of saying it. “Alright, okay, here we go. Tracy, this is…” she gestures to Adore, deep in thought. “ _ Love, _ ” she finally says, and Adore gives a little cheer, approving the synonymous name. “And this…” Alaska says, now gesturing to Katya, “is Katie.”

It isn’t what she’s expecting, and she immediately starts laughing, grabbing Adore for support. “Fuck you,” Katya tells her through her screeching peels of laughter. Abruptly she stops, “Seriously. Fuck you.” Alaska chuckles.

Tracy turns to Alaska. “Now, I don’t know what her real name is, but I definitely think you did her dirty just now.” She turns back to Katya, tapping her chin in exaggerated thought. “She definitely looks more like a Linda to me.”

At that, Katya falls apart once again, wheezing until she can’t breathe anymore. She’s pleased to both see and hear Tracy scream laughing alongside her. “Jesus,” Alaska comments, and Katya throws a balled up napkin at her face.

“I’m going to check on your food,” Tracy suddenly says, standing up.

Katya can’t resist. “No, Barbara, don’t go!” she fake cries after her, grinning ear to ear when Tracy banshee screams once again.

“Honestly,” Alaska says, “it’s like…a match made in hell.”

“Okay, but I am so sorry,” Adore says. “I had no idea she was behind me. She didn’t see it did she?’   
  


“I don’t think so. She probably knew what we were talking about though. I’m just glad she didn’t say anything about it.” She glances over at Alaska. “And  _ you _ . Don’t scare me like that with the name thing.”

Alaska shrugs. “She would know your real name anyway if she ever wanted a decent cup of coffee on her work break.”

“Yeah, but that’s different.”

“Not really. She knows my name already. Plus you would know her name too, unless she really only gives out the fake one even when she orders coffee.” Alaska pauses for a moment, clearly thinking about something. Katya’s not sure she wants to know. “It’s interesting though. How Tracy sounds kind of like,” she eyes Katya’s collarbone, “Trixie.”

“Huh,” Katya says. She’s got a point there. “It could be anything else though. For all we know  _ Tracy _ sounds nothing like her real name.”

“ _ But _ ,” Adore starts, jumping in on the conspiracy, “Alaska called you Katie. And anyone we’ve heard of picking a fake name usually picks one similar to their own, just enough that it’s a completely different name.”

“You’re both ridiculous. There’s no way. I mean, seriously. Imagine two of us working  _ right down the street _ while our soulmates work  _ here _ . Sure, fate may work in mysterious ways but  _ that _ would be a stretch.”

“I don’t know, girl,” Alaska says. “Maybe we should ask her if she has a coworker named Bianca.”

“Wow, you know Bianca?” Tracy suddenly says, clearly an expert at sneaking up on them. Alaska screams and starts slapping the table until Tracy hands her her food. But she’s still flailing. Adore looks like she’s about to pass out. “I’m kidding. I don’t know anyone named Bianca.”

“Oh,” Alaska says, disappointed. “What about someone named—” Katya kicks her again, harder. “You’re such an asshole to me,” Alaska says, scowling at her. “Whatever. I didn’t want to know anyway.”

“Suit yourself,” Tracy says. “You guys need anything else?” 

“I need another drink if I’m going to survive the rest of this meal,” Adore says.

“You got it. Be right back.”

They make sure she’s actually back inside before anyone says anything. Katya is the first to speak. “Tonight is so weird. I’m glad I have tomorrow off.”

“Oh, yeah, speaking of which. You’re gonna ask her out right? OR at least leave your number?” Alaska asks.

And Katya would. She  _ really _ would, but other than a few flirty comments that could have just as easily been jokes and the small handful of times they had made eye contact, she has no idea if the other girl is even interested. And realistically, she probably doesn’t have time to date between work and school. Katya hardly has time as it is, and she isn’t even  _ in _ school. “I don’t think so,” she admits. “Not right now, anyway.”

Thankfully, Alaska nods, accepting the answer.

The rest of the meal is more silent than it started out, but it has more to do with the day catching up to them than anything else. Katya can’t wait to crawl into bed and sleep in tomorrow. Of course, sleeping in is still  _ early _ by normal society standards, but she doesn’t mind. What counts is that she doesn’t need to wake up to an alarm, and she can make breakfast and take her time, and best of all, she doesn’t have to leave her apartment if she doesn’t want to. And honestly, she doesn’t plan on it.

When their checks are finally brought out, Katya makes sure to tip as well as she can. It’s hard to say that she’s doing better than what she gave Courtney last week since she still doesn’t know for sure, and if someone accused her of going overboard this time, well, she wouldn’t be able to deny it. 

Fortunately, no one is there to call her out on it. Adore heads inside to pee, and drags Alaska behind her. “You’re going to say hi to your potential soulmate  _ so help me _ ,” she says as she tugs her along. 

“I’m not waiting up,” Katya calls back after them. She’ll probably see Adore again before she leaves, but Alaska? Let’s just say, she better not. She counts out the money, trying not to overthink it and closes it in the book with her receipt. As if on cue, Tracy appears. “Oh, hi,” Katya says. She passes her the book, pleased with how calm she’s acting given the fact that the two of them are out here alone. “I don’t need change.”

“Thanks,” she says, opening the book almost immediately. Her jaw drops. “Um,” she says, sitting on the bench closest to her, across from Katya once again. She looks up at her, and Katya feels her stomach flip. She’s blushing hard, but she can’t look away. “You don’t have to—”

“No, I know. I just—I want to,” she says. 

Tracy stares down at the book again, her expression remaining the same even after she’s closed it. “Thanks,” she says softly, and Katya can’t help but smile at her. She can see it in her eyes how much this means to her, and Katya’s heart soars. The silence between them is easy. It lasts for a few moments, but Katya hardly notices. Finally, Tracy looks up at her. “You know, if you ever come here just like, for a drink or whatever, you can still sit with me. If you want. I won’t even charge you.”

“What?” Katya is so surprised she nearly laughs. “You don’t have to do that. I mean, of course I’ll sit in your section, but like, I’ll pay.”

“No, I know, but…” she trails off, suddenly shy. It seems uncharacteristic for her, but Katya thinks that’s what makes it so adorable. “It’s just…this was so nice. You’re so nice.”

Katya smiles. She could live in this moment forever, she thinks. But at the same time, it feels almost bittersweet. “You don’t even know my real name.”

“You don’t know mine either.”

“Well, in that case, should we…” she trails off, not needing to finish the question.

“I don’t know. I kind of like the mystery.” She pauses for a moment as if considering something. “I don’t know if I like you thinking of me as  _ Tracy  _ though. You’re not some creepy middle aged man—”

“That you know of,” Katya jokes, deepening her voice. Tracy loses it, banshee scream laughing so loud that anyone in the neighboring buildings are probably on high alert. “I love your laugh,” she blurts out. Oops.

The other girl shakes her head, her pink ponytail swishing from one side to the other. “No one likes my laugh.”

“I do,” Katya assures.

“Well you’re obviously a fucking psychopath,” she says, and this time, Katya is the one losing it. 

They laugh together for a moment before Katya says. “Oh my god, you better not be thinking of me as  _ Katie _ .”

“No I was thinking of you as Linda,” she says without missing a beat, and they fall into laughter again. “Okay but seriously, I wanted to say, you aren’t some creep customer. You’re fun, and I don’t know, I just like you. So, no more Tracy.”

“Barbara?”

“Shut the fuck up,” she screams.

Katya thinks for a minute. her eyes grazing over the pink hair, the makeup, the  _ body _ (jesus Christ the  _ body _ ) and in the end, the only name she can think of is  _ Trixie _ . But she’s not that lucky. No way. And regardless, she can’t be giving out her soulmate’s name to another pretty girl knowing full well the importance of the name. It would be inappropriate. 

“Well,” Katya starts, attempting to use every brain cell she has left to think of something both fun and clever. “You kind of remind me of a Barbie doll,” she thinks out loud.

“I’ve heard that one before,” Tracy laughs. “So, what, you’re gonna call me  _ Barbie _ ?”

“C’mon, you gotta give me more credit than that. I was thinking of taking it one step further.” Tracy leans in, her soft brown eyes wide with interest. “Like, okay. I was trying to think about the different kinds of dolls, because I know some of them have special names, but then of course I realized, I don’t know jack shit about dolls. However!” Katya says, enthusiastically holding up a finger. “However! I do know that in March of 1959,  _ Barbie _ was launched by Mattel, Inc.” Katya grins, entirely too proud of herself. But she isn’t sure what to say when all the other girl does is blink at her like that was the absolute last thing she expected Katya to say. “Mattel!” Katya all but cheers.

“Mattel?” Tracy repeats, deadpan. Katya nods, still smiling. The other girl has a ghost of a smile on her lips, but mostly she just shakes her head releasing a few almost exasperated laughs at Katya’s expense.

“Oh my god, you hate it.”

“No, I don’t. It’s just…” Tracy laughs, for real this time, and hides her face behind her hands. “Your brain really is something else.” Katya beams, flashing her pearly whites at Tracy—now officially,  _ Mattel _ . “Okay, my turn.” She leans her elbows on the table and rests her chin on her fists, observing Katya with a determined scrutiny. It lasts so long that Katya’s about to start throwing out her own suggestions, but just before she does, the other girl says “Red.”

“Red?” Mattel nods. “Why?”

“You remind me of red.” A simple explanation.

“Is that good or bad?” Katya asks.

“Red is my least favorite color,” Mattel tells her, her expression not wavering in the slightest. Katya can only stare at her. She can’t tell if she’s serious or not, and of course, if she is, how reminding her of her least favorite color could possibly be construed as a  _ good _ thing. But Mattel breaks only a moment later, scream laughing and looking too amused with herself. “But no, okay. The thing is that I don’t care for red, but you remind me of it in a way that like, I don’t know. It’s—” she cuts herself off, pausing as if to get the words right before she says them. “It’s like you remind me why red is still a beautiful color.”

The statement takes Katya’s breath away. Brown eyes meet hers, and she feels like the two of them are the only people in the universe. She expected her heart to be beating out of her chest by now, but it seems to have reached a level of calm she didn’t know her organs could respond to, and yet—

“Red,” Katya says. “I like it.”

“Oh, thank god.” The next silence between them is as comfortable as ever, but it doesn’t last very long. “I’m working tomorrow. If you want to come by.”

It’s obvious she wants her to, and Katya can’t help but wonder what’s going on in her mind. Is she one of those people that doesn’t care about their soulmark? Or is she like Katya: the kind of person that lives for the now and will deal with the consequences when and if they come up? Regardless, Katya knows that she feels inexplicably drawn to this beautiful Miss Mattel in front of her. It feels beyond rationality—like she couldn’t explain it if she tried. Maybe that feeling is mutual. “Maybe,” she finally answers, offering up her most coy smile.

Mattel smiles, her eyes lighting up. “Maybe?”

“Maybe,” Katya nods. “I do have some things I need to get done. So a lot depends on how that goes.”

“You can work on it here,” Mattel suggests.

“You have a washer and dryer in the bar?” Katya asks, raising a brow. She makes like she’s about to get up and look for it when she’s stopped by both another banshee laugh and a hand grabbing onto her arm. 

The contact stops her in her tracks.

Her whole body fills with warmth like she’s never experienced in her life. It feels like her heart is  _ glowing _ , and her mind is at a level of peace that  _ should _ be unachievable with the way her head is spinning. The contact breaks, and the dam in Katya’s mind seems to shatter. She doesn’t know what to say. She isn’t even sure she’s  _ breathing _ . Her eyes are locked on her own arm as she holds onto the spot where the other girl had touched it, as if to test whether she could have imagined the whole thing. She had been drinking after all.

“I, uh—” the voice across the table breaks the silence once again, and Katya nervously looks up, but Mattel doesn’t meet her gaze. “Sorry, I didn’t—I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“You didn’t,” Katya says, too fast. They make eye contact again, but it’s clear that something has shifted. Katya doesn’t know what, and she doesn’t think she’s the only one who’s lost. But still, she doesn’t know what to say.

Suddenly, Adore comes outside, yelling as she walks toward them, “KATYAAA can I have a cigarette?”

So much for fake names. 

Katya glares at Adore, who doesn’t realize her slip up at all. She hands her a cigarette, and it isn’t until it’s lit that Adore realizes what she said. Her mistake is written on her face, but she doesn’t say a word. Mattel’s face, on the other hand, is an unnerving picture of unreadable. She looks so out of it that Katya almost wonders if she caught her real name at all. But then, she stands, slow and zombie-like. “I have to go,” she finally says before disappearing inside without so much as a goodbye.

“She left the books,” Adore points out, picking them up and stacking them. “Do you want to take them to her?” But Katya doesn’t answer. “Kat, listen. I’m sorry for fucking up again. But on the plus side, she knows your real name now?” It doesn’t make Katya feel better. “Or maybe she doesn’t. She seemed like…I don’t know.” Adore’s eyes get wide again. “Oh my god, did I interrupt something?”

“I don’t know,” Katya says. “No? I don’t think so.” Adore frowns. “We weren’t talking or anything when you walked out,” Katya corrects. The last thing she needs is for Adore to think something was going on and start asking questions when Katya isn’t even sure herself. Adore nods but doesn’t say anything else. “What’s up with Alaska?”

“Oh, bitch. That shit is crazy. I think they’re actually soulmates. They’re just talking right now, but I think she’s staying until Courtney’s off work. Like, literally, I think they really are soulmates. I’ve never seen Alaska look at someone like that.” Katya nods, wondering what  _ that look _ even looks like. “You could take these in and see for yourself if you want,” Adore says, holding out the books.

Katya shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. I think I’m just going to head home.”

“Are you sure?” Adore asks. She’s obviously worried, and Katya doesn’t know what she can say to put her mind at rest. Her own brain is flying off the handles. “Hey,” she suddenly asks, “do you have a pen?” Adore nods and pulls one from her bag, watching as Katya takes the books from Adore, opening until she finds her own. She pulls out the receipt and flips it over. On it, she scribbles a short note:

_ Mattel, _

_ Sorry for leaving things like that. I didn’t mean for it to get weird. If you want to talk, you can text me (xxx-xxxx), but if not, no pressure.  _

_ -Katya “red” _

She hesitates before signing her own name, but there’s no way Mattel hadn’t heard it. Regardless, it seems like a good idea, especially because Katya can’t help but feel like she  _ owes _ her. Replaying the events in her mind, she wonders that if it really were  _ her specifically _ that made things awkward. The moment everything changed was when Mattel had grabbed onto her arm as she laughed. Katya had flinched back, hadn’t she? The more she thought about it, the cloudier it got. 

Regardless, she blames herself, and all she wants is to fix it.

Before she can think twice, she adds:

_ ps. i really enjoyed your company tonight. you look beautiful. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who's ready to get in trixie's head? the tone of this chapter is a little more serious than the others, but i hope you guys like it <3 thank you so much for reading! your comments and kudos give me life!!

Trixie feels like she’s blacked out. 

She’s one hundred percent sure she didn’t, but  _ fuck _ she can’t get her shit back together. Her heart is pounding, her head is spinning, and it’s hard to take a full breath in. 

Standing in the bathroom stall, she tries. Courtney doesn’t come in to check on her, but she doesn’t even know she has reason to. She has’t been able to focus on anything since Trixie came running in to tell her that  _ Fucking Alaska is outside, honey, you can’t make this shit up,  _ and now she’s doing a half assed job of cleaning the bar and talking to  _ the _ Alaska, and letting Pearl take care of the remaining bar guests.

Trixie was  _ ecstatic _ that Courtney found someone with her honest to god  _ soulmate _ (how many people named Alaska are in the world anyway?), but she also is experiencing a lot of other emotions. 

And really, she has been all week.

She remembers the first time she saw her.  _ Red _ . She was standing at the bar, all but gaping at Trixie as she complained about work shit, and when Trixie finally got a good look at her, her whole body felt like electricity—the good kind. It made her second guess if the other girl had actually been looking at her because no  _ way _ does someone that hot give her the time of day.

The minute the blonde had left the bar, Trixie had turned to Courtney and asked, “Who the fuck was that?”

Courtney had shrugged, “I don’t know. She works at that coffee shop down the street I think. She and her friends come in a lot, but I don’t know her name. Why?”

“I might be in love with her,” Trixie said, feigning melodrama and making Courtney's eyes roll. “No, but seriously. She really comes in here a lot?”

“Yeah. They usually sit outside though.”

Trixie groaned. She hated taking outside tables.

.

.

.

Trixie got her soulmate mark when she was eleven years old. She didn’t know she liked girls yet, but it didn’t matter because the name on her collarbone was unfamiliar to her. She tried to pronounce it, but felt like she got it wrong every time.

_ Kat-yah _

_ Katy-uh _

_ Katchya _

_ Katie-ah _

She couldn’t get it. So she asked her mom.

It didn’t go well. Her mom was horrified for whatever reason, and sent Trixie off to her room without even offering up a possible pronunciation. “Don’t let your father see it,” she told Trixie before slamming the door behind her.

“He’s not my dad!” Trixie screamed at the now closed door. “And I don’t care if he sees it!”

She didn’t care then, but she would when he  _ did _ finally see it. She was fifteen and about to go to her first school dance. By then, she had discovered her sexuality. She had learned how to say her soulmate’s name.  _ Katya. Katya. Katya. _ She repeated it like a mantra, hoping that one day, when they met, Trixie’s life would have improved tenfold.

But as they say, it always gets worse before it gets better.

Trixie planned to cover up her soulmark for the dance. Part of her didn’t want to. Part of her wanted to scream Katya’s name from the tallest building in Milwaukee until she came running into Trixie’s arms, but the other part of her liked holding Katya’s name close, like a secret only she knew.

Her dress had spaghetti straps, which meant her collarbone was exposed, but she planned to cover up her soulmark with a special foundation she found in her mom’s bathroom. It was what  _ she _ used to cover up her  _ own _ soulmark, so Trixie knew it would work. So she ventured into the bathroom, found the concealer, and was about to apply it when her step father walked in, already fed up that she was in their space at all.

She tried to explain to him why, but he didn’t want to hear it. All he needed was to hear that one word:  _ soulmark _ , and he lost it. The name was right there in plain sight, and when he said it outloud, it was with disgust. Trixie hated that her soulmate’s name was in his mouth like that, treated like a piece of chewing tobacco, spit out like it didn’t deserve the time of day. He called Trixie too many names that night—every slur she’d ever heard for a gay person, but none sounded as horrible as when he had said Katya’s name. 

She left as soon as she could. Applying to any college that wasn’t in Wisconsin, and eventually, she got accepted somewhere where she could imagine herself fully. It was a university in Boston that had a prestigious music program. She could take music classes, but also study music production. It was well rounded in every aspect of music, and she was overjoyed when she got the acceptance letter. She moved as soon as they would let her into the dorms, and she immediately found a job, knowing if she wanted to make it and separate herself from her toxic family, she needed money.

It wasn’t easy, but Trixie fought tooth and nail. She was able to get an apartment. She needed roommates, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t living in a dorm anymore. She found a better job when she turned twenty-one, waiting tables at a bar. It definitely sucked sometimes, but the tips were almost always good, and she got as many hours as she wanted. It fit with her chaotic school schedule. She had friends there.

Still, she thought about her soulmate constantly. All of her friends knew. They had seen her mark. She was  _ proud _ of it. Even though she had never met or even heard of anyone named Katya, she never lost hope that she would find her one day. Not even for a second.

She was the kind of person who didn’t date. She just wasn’t interested unless their name was Katya. Her friends sometimes made fun of her for it, but she didn’t care. Sure, she had her drunken one night stands, and awkward first dates along the way, but everything always felt so empty.

Which is why when she sees a certain athletic looking blonde enter the bar with her two friends, Trixie feels like she’s been robbed of her own lungs. Her heart seizes in her chest and she can’t seem to breathe, but she doesn’t even care. She watches as the hostess leads them outside, and she makes her way to the back door out to the patio, ready to tell the hostess  _ immediately _ that she’s going to take the table. She can’t risk Blair asking someone else to get it.

Trixie tries to act like her most confident self, but really, she feels so lost. She’s never experienced real feelings like this—the butterflies, the shivers down her spine, the heat pooling in her core, and she doesn’t know what to do with it. She doesn’t know what to do with this beautiful blonde in front of her, with her lean body, perfect teeth, and hair so soft Trixie just wants to bury her face in it. She doesn’t know what to do with herself. She doesn’t know what to do about  _ Katya _ .

Throughout the shift, Trixie tries and fails to ask Courtney for advice. After the long anticipated  _ Alaska _ was finally revealed as someone who had been coming here for the last year, Courtney really wasn’t much help, not that Trixie could blame her. She would feel the same if she were in the same situation, as if she suddenly realized that Katya had been right in front of her face this whole time. 

The thought makes her feel worse about the beautiful blonde outside. 

She feels like maybe they’re flirting? Or maybe Alaska’s trying to set them up? Or maybe both? Trixie can’t tell, but she definitely almost passes out when she walks outside and sees them all showing off their soulmarks. She almost turns back around and comes out later, but her morbid curiosity keeps her feet moving. It works out that she arrives at the table without actually seeing anything other than the blonde she’s so infatuated with putting her shirt back in place, from covering up her right collarbone.

Trixie’s heart thrums, and her own soulmark tingles. She resists the urge to rub at it as well as the urge to join in on the table’s show-and-tell that she was fully  _ not _ invited to. Regardless, she can’t seem to shake the thought from her mind that hers and the mystery blonde’s soulmarks are in the opposite locations of each other—in the same place their respective soulmates have their soulmarks. Always opposite each other. If they were pressed together, their soulmarks would line up.

Eventually, Trixie is desperate enough to seek advice from anyone who will listen. She can feel her heart melting in her ribcage every time she meets those striking blue eyes, and when she’s looking back, it’s like she can’t think of anything else. 

“Pearl, please,” Trixie begs. “I need your advice.”

Pearl all but laughs at her. “You know who you’re asking, right?” 

Trixie nods, pushing forward despite it all anyway. Pearl gives great advice, but when it comes to navigating soulmarks and the dating world, she’s clueless. She’s the only person Trixie has ever known without a soulmark, and as far as Pearl has told her, she hasn’t met anyone else either. The results end up being either lots of meaningless sex, brief relationships that never go anywhere, or heartbreak if Pearl decides to step forward with someone only for them to meet their soulmate shortly after. It would be a sad life for anyone, but Pearl says she’s used to it.

“Listen, Trix. It sucks to have someone leave you when they find their soulmate. Even if you know going into it that it isn’t forever, you’ll want to believe it is if you’re happy. And like, yeah, I’m happy for Violet. She and Fame are obviously meant to be, but that doesn’t numb all the pain. Obviously I don’t know how it feels to be in the other position, but Violet said hated it. The guilt, and a little bit of regret too. She didn’t regret our time together and I didn’t either, but in retrospect, it’s the most rational emotion.”

“So what are you saying?” Trixie asks, trying to process it all.

Pearl sighs, “I’m saying that in the long run, it’s probably easier not to pursue a relationship with someone whose name isn’t your soulmark. But will you be happy if you don’t?” With that, Pearl gives her a cryptic smile and turns back to wiping down the bar. Trixie sighs. She needs another opinion.

She does what she should have done in the first place. She calls Kim.

It doesn’t take long for her to ramble everything to her roommate over the phone, starting with “Remember that girl I told you about?” to “I can’t stop thinking about her she makes me feel things what do I  _ do HELP _ ,” she only has a minute and a half to hear her bestie’s wise words of wisdom.

“Trixie, I swear to god, for one of the smartest people I know, you can be a real dumbass.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I  _ mean _ , she  _ could _ actually be your soulmate. Did you even consider that?” Surprisingly, Trixie hadn’t. Wow, maybe she really was a dumbass. “So I think you should keep doing what you’re doing. Share names if you want, but I’ve seen those trash books you read. I know how you feel about mystery. Just like, chill out and get to know her and  _ don’t scare her off _ .”

“Yes, mom,” Trixie agrees, saluting even though Kim can’t see her.

“And for fuck’s sake, find something else to call her instead of fucking  _ Red Hot _ .” With that, Kim hangs up, leaving Trixie somehow both more clear minded and also more lost as she was before.

If one thing is clear it’s that Trixie must move forward, mystery kept alive thank you very much. Answers be damned. For now, anyway. 

The next time she gets to talk to  _ Red Hot _ (she mentally flips off Kim as she refers to the blonde this way in her head), it’s just the two of them. The blonde leaves Trixie a bigger tip than she deserves, but  _ insists _ it was what she wanted to do. The sincerity practically overflows from her bright blue eyes, and Trixie is completely  _ helpless _ . 

A part of her keeps waiting for something to happen that makes this absolutely perfect person just a smidge less perfect, but it  _ doesn’t _ . Even the qualities and quirks other people may find undesirable, Trixie just wants more of. The weird laugh, the terrible jokes, the overexaggerated facial expressions she makes when literally anything happens. Hell, she’ll even take the red lipstick and the cigarettes. If it all adds up to this? Sign her  _ up _ .

Trixie is surprised at herself for being so vulnerable. Admitting  _ it’s like you remind me why red is still a beautiful color _ was not something she had been expecting to say to her maybe  _ ever _ , but she meant it, and when the thought struck her and the truth behind it blared through her nerves like a lightning strike, she knew she had to say it.

She’s glad she did.

It moves her forward and earns her a soft smile, and she doesn’t want it all to end here, so she invites Red to come back tomorrow. The prospect of  _ maybe _ excites Trixie. It enhances the mystery. It means she might see Red again (tomorrow!!). It means Red  _ wants _ to see her again. Honestly Trixie’s smiling so much, she probably looks insane but she doesn’t care. She feels like she’s floating—on a high that she hopes will never end.

But somehow, it does.

At first, Trixie doesn’t know  _ what _ to feel. She’d been monitoring herself all night, trying to balance out the more insane parts of her like, avoiding incest jokes and refraining from grabbing people as she screams with laughter. She knew it was a matter of time before she lost control, and in retrospect  _ of course _ it would happen when it was just her and Red.  _ Of course _ it would be at one of the funniest things she’d been a part of all night.  _ Of course _ it would be too much.

What she didn’t know, what she couldn’t have known, was exactly how that  _ too much _ was going to manifest itself.

The minute her hand landed on Red’s arm, Trixie was buzzing. It was like her world tilted on its axis and spun faster than it was supposed to. It was like going underwater on a hot summer day but not wanting (or even  _ needing _ ) to come up for air. It was like every doubt she had ever had about herself, her body, her place in this world, her relationships, her dreams all suddenly clicked. She felt peace like no other, draping over her like a warm blanket. It was a feeling she knew she would never forget, and one she hoped she would never have to because it was the only thing she wanted to feel for the rest of her life.

But Red flinched, and Trixie let go. 

Her mouth went dry as she watched Red stare down at her arm in alarm, or maybe even abject horror. Trixie could barely focus, her vision was starting to blur, but she didn’t know if it had to do with tears or something else. She did the best she could to shake the feeling off, mostly succeeding as she watched Red’s fingers brush against her arm before she cradled it to herself.

Trixie didn’t know what to say. Red’s expression was complicated, but most of what Trixie could make out did not scream optimism. It was all the opposite. Had she hurt her?  _ What _ had just happened? Trixie nearly suspected for a moment that Red really  _ was  _ her soulmate. Nothing else could explain that feeling that coursed through her. But Red’s reaction? Whatever Trixie had been feeling, Red clearly hadn’t been. 

The stories of unrequited soulmates were even fewer and farther between the stories of people with no soulmark, and Trixie couldn’t be one of those people. She just couldn’t be. She didn’t accept that.

She tries to forget about soulmate feelings, she really does, but it doesn’t help that her soulmark has become overly sensitive out of nowhere. It burns, it itches, and it  _ throbs _ all at once, and Trixie pushes the feeling aside. All she can do is move forward. “I hope I didn’t hurt you,” she manages to say, but she looks away before she finishes the question, instinctively bringing her hand to her left shoulder anyway, her palm pressed against her collarbone.

“You didn’t,” Red quickly assures. It sounds honest, and Trixie wants to believe that she didn’t hurt her, but she can’t wrap her mind around any of it. She glances back up, and they finally make eye contact once more.

It changes everything, again.

Red’s eyes are swarmed with emotion. It’s so much that Trixie can’t tell one from the other, and it just makes her feel more confused. Trixie wants to ask her about all of it, but she also wants to disappear, pretend like this didn’t happen so Red can come see her at work tomorrow and none of this will be hanging between them. Trixie wants to dive across the table and hold her, stroke her hair, kiss her neck, wrap her arms around her and stay there forever. But she also wants to keep her distance. She can’t expect anything. She can’t make assumptions. She can’t pretend to know the answers.

All she can do is move forward.

She can  _ find _ the answers. 

Trixie isn’t sure what to say, but she wants to say  _ something _ .  _ Anything _ , really, to correct this situation. To put the ease back between them. To reassure Red that everything is okay, and they don’t have to talk about it now but they can later. She wants to smile and tell Red  _ Let’s be friends, okay? You’re the coolest person I’ve ever met in my entire life. _

But before she can, the back door of the bar swings open and the brunette friend is back, screaming out to Red. Only she doesn’t call her Red.

She calls her Katya.

Trixie stops breathing.

Did she hear that right? Some of the sounds were prolonged and it was shouted from a small distance away (but a distance nonetheless), and it isn’t like Trixie’s brain had been working at its full capacity, right? She had to have heard wrong.

And yet—

It makes too much sense, and Trixie suddenly feels like there’s too much space around her, but she can’t find it in her to move or blink, much less talk or stand up. However, she’s going to have to do one or more of these things pretty soon because the silence is deafening and she can feel both pairs of eyes on her from across the table.

If she didn’t know what to say before, she absolutely doesn’t know now, and she feels like someone else is controlling her body when she finally stands, mumbling a weak excuse before moving on autopilot back into the bar and straight to the bathroom. 

For a long moment, all she can do is stand in the locked stall, immobile and still and silent, and its such an unnatural state for her that she shivers, trying to break out of the shock, to find her words again. Trixie doesn’t really think about it when she pulls out her phone and calls Kim again.

“What now, bitch?” she answers, and Trixie almost smiles at the sound of her voice, but she’s not quite there yet.

“Kim,” she says. It comes out quiet and cracked, so she clears her throat and says it again. She can hear Kim on the other end of the phone sitting up from the couch, the TV in the background going silent. “Kim, I need you to come get me. From work.”

“Yeah, okay, sure,” Kim says, no questions asked. This is one of many reasons why Trixie loves her. “Hang on, Trix, I’ll be right there.”

She ends the phone call just before she falls apart, beginning to hyperventilate as though her body just now caught on to the fact that she hasn’t been taking in enough oxygen. She lets herself out of the stall to lean on the sink, trying to count each breath in and each breath out. When it doesn’t work, she just says  _ fuck it _ and splashes cold water on her face.  _ That _ helps. Her makeup is probably in ruin, but at least she can breathe a little better. 

Counting to ten, Trixie feels like she’s got a good handle on herself enough to think through what happened outside. She wants to keep the memory fresh, she can’t risk losing any details, because she needs to tell Kim  _ all of it _ . But just thinking about Red’s ( _ maybe Katya’s _ ) face, smiling wide, but then flinching away, it sends her into another tailspin, and she has to resort to more water splashing.

That’s how she’s found in the bathroom, makeup running down her face as she takes breaths too rapid to be effective. “Fuck, is this a panic attack?” she asks the intruder without turning around. She doesn’t know who it is, but she thinks it’s going to be Pearl. She’s surprised when it isn’t.

“Shit, are you okay? Um,” Red’s brunette friend rushes over to her and eases her into a sitting position on the floor. Trixie really doesn’t want to sit on the floor (she knows how infrequently it gets cleaned properly), but her knees feel wobbly and she can’t resist as she gets gently tugged down. “Breathe with me okay?” the brunette says, starting to make slow, even breaths until Trixie starts matching her. She doesn’t stop until Trixie takes a deep breath on her own. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Trixie nods. “Thanks, um…” she trails off. “Sorry, I don’t know what your actual name is. And I don’t think I can take either of us seriously if I call you  _ Love _ .”

The brunette laughs at that, and Trixie doesn’t understand until she says, “My name’s Adore.”

“Oh,” Trixie says, managing to laugh a little herself. “Fuck. I’m sorry you had to see that. I don’t even know where that came from.”

Adore shrugs. “It happens to the best of us. I wanted to apologize for interrupting you two like that. And also,” she holds out the three books from their table, “I figured you might want these.” 

Trixie sighs. She can’t believe she forgot them. She really must have been out of it. Talk about overreacting. She kind of wants to smack herself on the forehead, but she doesn’t. “Thanks again,” she says.

“No problem,” Adore grins at her before standing up. She holds out a hand to help Trixie stand after her. The first thing Trixie does is turn to the mirror to clean herself up. “You ready to go out there? It’s pretty empty. Alaska and Courtney like, left? I think? That other girl said she would close for her? I don’t know her name…the one who looks dead on her feet.”

“Pearl?” 

“Yeah, that’s the one. She’s pretty cool. She said she would make me a drink off the books if I stayed and kept her company.” Trixie rolls her eyes. “What?”

“She just wants to get in your pants. I mean, she probably would enjoy your company too, but you know, that’s just what Pearl does,” Trixie explains as she walks out of the bathroom. Adore follows close behind.

“I mean,” she shrugs. “I’m fine with it. It’s not like I’ve met my soulmate yet or anything. Who even knows when I will.”

The mention of soulmates hits Trixie in the gut, but she focuses on Adore’s situation, pretending like her own doesn’t even exist. She hums thoughtfully. “You never know. I know that sounds dumb, but seriously. The world is smaller than you think. Plus yours has a distinct name if I remember correctly? Bianca?”

Adore opens her mouth to answer, but before she does, Kim speaks from behind them, apparently having arrived mere moments ago. “Trix, you know Bianca? Weird. Small world.” Trixie and Adore both turn to stare at her, both of their mouths hanging open in shock. Kim laughs nervously, “Hello? You good? And who’s this?”

“Kim,” Trixie starts, wondering if her roommate knows this  _ Bianca _ ’s soulmark name. “This is Adore. Adore. This is Kim.”

As Trixie suspects, Kim’s eyes widen. “ _ Adore, _ ” she repeats. “Adore? Seriously?” she asks, giving the brunette a skeptical once over. “What are the odds there is a different Adore out there with a soulmate named Bianca? Because this can’t be right.”

“Um, they’re probably not very high,” Adore answers. “Should I be offended?” she shifts from one foot to the other, her arms crossed tight over her chest.

“No, no not at all,” Kim says. “Just um… well, you’ll see. Write down your number for me. I’m setting you up on a blind date with a clown.” Adore looks confused, but she gives Kim her number anyway. “Can I see your soulmark? Sorry I know that’s personal but like, I can’t believe this.” Adore shrugs, showing it to both Kim and Trixie. “That’s Bianca’s handwriting alright. Shit, you really are her soulmate. I never would have thought that in a million years. Not that I actually know her type.”

Adore seems to be speechless, but Trixie is living for this interaction, so much that her own troubles are no longer at the forefront of her mind. “Wait, have I met Bianca?” She desperately wants to be on the same page with Kim, because she’s nosy and this story really seems like one for the books.

“Maybe? If anything it was in passing one of those times you visited me at work. She’s the floor manager that’s always yelling at people.”

“Oh my god,  _ that’s _ Bianca?” Trixie says, remembering witnessing a few choice interactions between her and some less fortunate (and quite frankly  _ incompetent) _ employees. “She was so mean, but like in a funny way. Or is it funny in a mean way? Maybe both.” She looks at Adore again. “Wow, yeah. I really want to see how this plays out.”

“My soulmate is an asshole?” Adore doesn’t look upset or angry so much as confused. 

“Don’t worry, girl, it depends on who you are. She’s nice to me. If she likes you, you get to be in on all the jokes. Of course, she’ll still make them at your expense, but honestly i think that’s her way of expressing love or something. When she promoted me she said I was the  _ best of the worst _ and that she  _ begrudgingly _ decided if anyone got a raise, it should be my sorry ass. It might be the nicest thing she’s ever said to me.”

“Party,” Adore says. “I can’t wait to meet her.” Kim doesn’t look convinced and Trixie laughs at Adore’s expense. “No, seriously. I really am excited. Just like, I don’t want to have any kind of expectations. I’m going in blind.”

“How old are you anyway?” 

“Twenty-one.” Kim laughs hard at that, and Adore frowns. “What? How old is Bianca?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?” Adore shrugs helplessly as if saying  _ how should I know _ . “Actually, I’m not gonna say anything. She’d probably kill me. Or fire me.”

“Both,” Trixie nods. 

But honestly, to Adore’s credit, she doesn’t look bothered by any of this information. Kim starts adding Adore’s number in her phone as she says, “I’ll text you, okay? And actually I’ll send you a text now so you know I’m not trying to screw you over or anything. Let me know what days and times you’re free. We’ll figure something out.” She turns to Trixie. “You about ready?”

“Actually,” Trixie glances around the restaurant and the sense of urgency she had when she called Kim fades into the background. She hasn’t done any of her side work or cleaned anything up. She still needs to do her cashout. “Sorry, but no. I still have some things to do. But I promise I won’t keep you here too long, okay?” Kim nods and makes her way to the bar, striking up a conversation with Pearl. Trixie heads to the nearest computer to close out her tables and run the cashout. Adore follows her over.

“Hey,” the brunette says, poking Trixie on the arm. “You want some help?”

“You really don't have to. But obviously, I’ll take it if you’re serious.”

“Obviously. We’re friends now, I think. Plus you’ve had a tough night. It’s the least I can do.” 

Trixie shakes her head, “Girl seriously? You’ve already done so much. I’m glad you’re here. If you weren’t I’d probably be passed out on the bathroom floor.”

Adore grins, pulling Trixie in for an impromptu hug. “You know, I still don’t know your name. I’ve been thinking of you as Tracy this whole time.”

Trixie groans so loud that Kim and Pearl stop talking to stare at her. She waves them off, turning her attention to the books in front of her, opening them one by one to close the checks out, starting with Adore. “Thanks, again,” she laughs waving the cash in the air half heartedly. “Anyway. I’m just glad you didn’t try to comfort me in the bathroom by calling me Tracy. I would have probably died.” She closes Alaska’s check, discarding the empty books off to the side. “My  _ actual _ name is Trixie,” she says, finally opening the last book, too distracted by what’s in it to notice Adore’s jaw practically hitting the floor at the reveal of her name.

On top of the money, there’s a note. Trixie isn’t expecting it at all, but it certainly isn’t the first note (and/or number) that someone’s left her. Normally, it wouldn’t phase her, but her eyes are frozen on five little letters at the bottom.  _ Katya _ . She signed her name,  _ Katya _ . Trixie hadn’t misheard or gone crazy. Her name really is Katya. And not only that, but the handwriting is exactly the same as the name on her collarbone she’d been staring at for ten years. It’s surreal to be looking at it like this, an exact replica of her soulmark on the back of a receipt. 

_ Katya _ . 

She forces herself to look away, slipping the note into her apron and resuming with her cashout. “I’m gonna clean these tables, okay?” Adore suddenly says. She’s already making her way over to the tables, and Trixie rushes to give her manager her money and cash out before walking back over to help Adore.

A thought strikes Trixie as she approaches the table Adore is cleaning, and she can’t help but ask her, “Did you know?” She doesn’t have to specify what she’s talking about.

Adore stops what she’s doing to face Trixie. “I had no idea until you told me your name just now. But you were already figuring it out, so I didn’t want to say anything.” She pauses for a moment before adding, “You don’t have to talk about it. Or you can, if you want. Either now, or later. I can make sure you have my number, too.”

“I don’t want you to end up in the middle of our business. You are Katya’s friend after all.” She tries not to think about how weird saying her name out loud is after all this time with a face to the name.

Adore shrugs, “I don’t think it’ll be like that. I’m offering a listening ear. Or like, coffee.”

“Okay,” Trixie nods. “You’re not going to tell her are you?”

“Not if you don’t want me to. Besides, I wanna know how this is going to play out,” she says, sticking out her tongue. 

Trixie tries to laugh, but it falls flat. Adore doesn’t say anything else, and they finish cleaning in silence. The brunette even stays to help Trixie roll her silverware. “Thanks again,” she tells Adore. “I’ll get your number from Kim and text you.”

Adore nods. Trixie turns to head toward Kim’s car but stops when Adore gets her attention. “I, uh, I just wanted to say. I don’t know what happened with you and Katya tonight, but even if it sucked, I don’t know…she’s a good person. She’s always got a lot of shit going on in her head and it doesn’t always translate well, but seriously Trixie, you’re gonna love her. I’ll see you around, okay?” She waves one last time, and Trixie doesn’t turn around until Adore’s already started walking away. 

In the car, she’s holding Katya’s note, her thumb tracing over the indentations of the writing left on the receipt paper. Her fingers ghost over Katya’s name so much, she’s worried it’s going to smudge, but she can’t stop. Everytime she does it, her soulmark tingles just a little bit. She wonders what Katya’s doing. She wonders if she should text her.

“So are you gonna tell me what’s going on?” Kim asks. They’re almost home and Trixie hasn’t said a single word about what happened tonight. “You can wait until we get home. Whatever you want, okay?”

Trixie considers it, but suddenly feels like she can’t wait any longer to talk about it. “I don’t know where to start.”

“The beginning,” Kim suggests with a laugh. “No, but really, start wherever it makes the most sense. Or just launch into it with the biggest information. There’s a thousand ways to start probably and none of them are wrong.”

Trixie nods, but it’s only a few seconds later when she says, “I met my soulmate.”

Kim slams on the breaks as soon as she says it and Trixie glares over at her. “I’m not trying to die tonight, Kim.”

“Sorry, sorry, but oh my god! Bitch, are you serious?”

“No. I’m just yankin’ your chain. Of course I’m serious! Maybe I should wait until you’re not operating heavy machinery to tell this story.”

“Good idea. Anyway, this sounds like the kind of shit I need a drink for.”

“Oh honey, you have no fucking idea.”

Once they’ve arrived at home safely, Kim guns it for a bottle of wine, emptying the whole thing between two of the largest wine glasses they have in their apartment. She’s sitting on the couch with both their glasses before Trixie has even taken her shoes off. “Hurry up,” she urges, getting even more impatient as Trixie trudges to the couch.

“It’s been a long day, okay?” she says, taking the oversize wine glass. She knocks back half of it before setting it down. “Like I said. A  _ day _ .”

Since Trixie got the big revelation out of the way first, she decides to go back to the beginning. The moment she first saw Katya in the bar, recapping the details for Kim now that she has new context for the moment. It inevitably leads into her taking their table outside.

She goes through all the details of how she felt, what was said. She talks about Courtney and Alaska. She tells her about the advice Pearl told her. She breaks down all the details about what happened after she got off the phone with Kim for the first time that night.

When she gets to her and Katya’s one on one moment outside, she hesitates. She drinks more wine. “This part is a little foggy to me. Like, it’s weird to think about now that I  _ know _ , but when it was happening, it was just like, horrible.” Kim nods, reassuring her, and Trixie dives into it. She describes everything she felt in as much detail as she can remember, she explains the way Katya had responded to the touch and the way the Earth seemed to shift beneath them, and she discussed the way it felt wrong—the moment she wondered if her soulmark was unrequited.

She finishes her wine before she catches Kim up to the moment she showed up. From Adore yelling Katya’s name outside, toTrixie thinking she must have misheard. How she was afraid she would pass out, but made it inside by some miracle. Adore helping her calm down in the bathroom. Eventually, she led into what happened when she was closing up. The note is still folded up in her back pocket, and she pulls it out, unfolding it, reading it for herself once more before passing it to Kim. 

“When I saw it, that’s when I knew for sure,” Trixie says, pulling her shirt down so Kim can compare the signature to her soulmark. “Adore found out at the same time, but only because I told her my actual name. That’s how I know it isn’t unrequited.”

By the end of it all, Kim releases a sigh so big it’s like she was holding her breath the whole time. “Shit.”

“Yeah,” Trixie agrees. 

“And Katya doesn’t know?” Trixie shakes her head. “Are you gonna tell her? Or at least text her?”

“I don’t know,” Trixie admits. “Obviously I want to tell her, but I definitely don’t want to do it over text. And then texting in the meantime before I  _ can _ tell her…I don’t know. It would feel a little like lying. I would be talking to her like I don’t have this  _ huge _ secret that will alter the course of our lives. Neither option is very fair.”

“So can you try to talk to her tomorrow?”

“Unless she comes by the bar, probably not. I’m working open to close tomorrow,” Trixie groans. “And my schedule this week is  _ hell _ .”

“ _ Is _ she coming to see you at work tomorrow?”

“She said maybe, but that was before everything got like, weird. But anyway, now that I know it’s not  _ just _ a crush, I’d rather our relationship not begin while I’m trying to waive off drunk men while passing them their beers and fucking cheesy fries, you know?” 

Overall, Kim gets it. But she doesn’t have the magic cure-all advice Trixie had been hoping for. “I think you should at least text her, you know. You could say you’re checking in, and then let her know you have a bunch of school shit on top of work so your time is sparse but you definitely want to get together when you’ve survived all your projects and papers this week with straight B’s.”

“B’s? Seriously? As if.”

“Okay, but you get what I’m saying right? If you say nothing, she’s going to think you’re ignoring her. Which actually, is exactly what you would be doing.”

“Not ignoring!” Trixie argues. “Just…waiting.”

“For a week? Come on. Don’t be that girl. This is your  _ soulmate _ we’re talking about.”

“I could always get her a message through Adore?”

“Girl,  _ no _ ,” Kim insists. “You have to text her. Go ahead and make plans for next week.  _ Please _ .” Kim has the final say in the conversation, and she lets Trixie know by standing to take their wine glasses to the kitchen. “See you tomorrow, Trix. I’m really happy you found her.”

When Kim’s bedroom door shuts with a definitive click, Trixie is left on the couch with her phone in one hand and Katya’s note in the other.

“Me too,” Trixie says to no one in particular. She reads Katya’s note one more time, and with a determined sigh, she unlocks her phone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i figured i would go ahead and post this today, since we're all about to be graced with some wonderful new reading content tomorrow. 
> 
> this is probably my favorite chapter in the whole fic. katya is so brilliantly dumb, and i had so much fun writing this one! i hope you guys like it too :)

“If you don’t stop staring at your phone waiting for a notification, I’m going to drop it in the electric kettle and switch that bitch to  _ on _ .”

Katya should be offended, but all she can do is stare miserably at her roommate from her spot on the couch. She’s lying face down, one arm hanging off and draped half on the floor, her phone lying next to her hand. The screen is as dark as its been all night, but Katya isn’t even surprised. “I screwed it up, Ginger,” she mumbles against the cushion.

“Okay,” Ginger says, unconvinced. “Did you forget to tell me part of the story or something?”

“No,” Katya pouts.

“Then I fail to see how you fucked up. You were pleasant, you left a generous tip, and you apologized for the weird shit in a note in which you  _ also  _ confessed to enjoying her company  _ and _ told her she was beautiful. If you don’t hear from her, that’s not on you, girl.” Katya sighs, her eyes staring down at her phone again. “And anyway, maybe she abides by that three day rule the straights made up.”

At that, Katya whines. “Fuck, I hope not. I can’t take much more of this.”

Ginger rolls her eyes. “It’s only been a couple of hours. The bar only closed like ten minutes ago. Don’t forget she still has a job to do.” Katya whines again. “I’m gonna have to steal your phone, aren’t I?”

“What? No. Why would you do that?”

“Because otherwise you’ll spend all night and your whole day tomorrow staring at it, and you won’t get your shit done. You’re still going by the university tomorrow aren’t you?” 

Katya shrugs. She hadn’t actually  _ planned _ on going at all, but Ginger was prepared to drag her there. “Can’t we go next weekend?”

“I’d say yes, but you said that last week. You’re already putting it off too long if you want to go back in August. The semester will be over in a few weeks. The deadline for reapplying is even sooner.”

“What?” Katya frowns. She didn’t remember Adore talking about upcoming exams or how much she couldn’t wait for it to be summer. Ginger gives her a nod that looks almost pitying, but Katya can’t tell if it actually is. “I’m still not even sure I want to go back.”

“Look, bitch. You talk about it all the time. Are you going to keep talking about it or are you going to do it?”

Katya releases a deep sigh. Ginger has a point, and she can’t help but think about what Alaska had said before—that she only thinks about two things and doesn’t do shit about either of them. And if she can’t track down her soulmate wherever she lives, she might as well start working back towards school. Adore had pointed out that there was a fashion major in the theater and arts department, and she had been thinking about it. That’s something she wanted to do, right? Could she do it?

“Yeah, fine. We can go.”

“Are you still going back to the bar tomorrow?” Ginger asks, and Katya shrugs. She really hadn’t decided. The answer she gave Mattel still stands.  _ Maybe _ . But things are a little different now. After she decided to leave her number, she had moved the ball from her court into Mattel’s and her plans for going back to the bar were reliant on if she texted or not.

Katya reluctantly sits up, bringing her phone with her. “If she still wants me to, then yes. But if I don’t hear from her, I won’t.” Ginger nods, signifying her agreement. “It’s really all I can do at this point.”

Ginger thinks for a moment before going into the kitchen. “I’m making you a drink, girl. We’re gonna watch a movie or something until you fall asleep on the couch. Distraction is your only hope at this point.”

“Does this mean you’re not gonna take my phone?”

“You can hold onto it, but only if you watch with me.”

Katya knows Ginger is her greatest friend of all time when she puts in  _ Contact _ . She passes her the drink she made and settles onto the couch with Katya. She sets her phone next to her, face up and on vibrate. She doesn’t plan to stare at it like she has been, but she wants to know the second when a new message comes in (or  _ if _ , she thinks woefully).

The first text she gets is as the credits of  _ Contact  _ are rolling. She’s unlocked her phone before it’s even done vibrating, but she deflates when she sees it’s just a message from Alaska in the group chat they have with Adore. Her disappointment wavers though when she notices it isn’t just any text. “Holy fuck,” Katya says, sitting straight up on the couch, and Ginger turns to look at her.

“Did she text you?” Katya just shakes her head, passing Ginger the phone to show her the picture Alaska sent her—of Courtney’s soulmark. “Holy fuck is right,” Ginger says. “I can’t believe it.”

“Right? Today is seriously fucking insane.”

“Miraculous, really,” Ginger comments. It’s a little sarcastic, but Katya doesn’t miss the way she nods back to her phone. The message is pretty clear, but she says it anyway. “Don’t lose hope, girl.” 

Katya nods, sending a string of excited replies to Alaska before setting her phone to the side, face down this time. Maybe if she can’t see it, she won’t think about it so much and Mattel will text her. “Do you want something else to drink?” she asks Ginger, who’s obviously about to pick out another movie since Katya has yet to chill out. It’s later than she usually stays up, but she doesn’t even feel remotely tired.

“You know it,” she says, and Katya makes her way to the kitchen. She makes them both a gin and tonic, but she downs hers on the spot before filling the glass back up, this time with just water. Ginger already has  _ Pretty Woman _ playing when Katya sits down. She takes her drink without even looking at Katya, and then she waits five minutes before saying, “Oh, your phone went off by the way.”

Katya screeches as she leaps off the couch, making Ginger jump.

“Christ, bitch, calm the fuck down. It could just be Alaska again, anyway.”

Having forgotten about the group chat, Katya deflates a little. “You’re probably right,” she says, sitting back down. She’s not even sure she wants to look at it to confirm or deny.

Ginger chuckles and it sounds more suspicious than usual. “I’m not though. It’s from an unsaved number. I looked while you were in the kitchen doing shots.”

“I was not,” Katya tells her. She picks up her phone, but doesn’t turn it over. “Maybe I should have.” She worries at her bottom lip, now staring at the dark screen. She can’t bring herself to unlock the phone, suddenly so nervous that she feels dizzy. “I need a cigarette.”

Ginger groans. “No, what you  _ need _ is to open that fucking message.  _ Then _ we’ll go have a cigarette. The suspense is killing me.”

“Oh, it’s killing  _ you _ ?” Katya retorts. She’s stalling, but there’s no point with Ginger, who just mutters  _ oh for fuck’s sake, Katya _ and grabs her phone, unlocking it for her. Katya really needs to change her passcode, she thinks as she takes it back, looking before she can stop herself. 

The first thing she sees is that the message  _ is _ from a new number, but she doesn’t recognize the area code. The second thing she notices is that it’s a picture message. 

Frowning, she opens it, dropping her phone as soon as her eyes land on the image. 

She’s  _ speechless _ . Literally.

Ginger picks her phone from where it fell on the carpet, and Katya knows she’s seen it when she murmurs, “Oh my god.” A beat passes. “Oh my god,” she says again, louder this time. “Katya, this is—” Ginger doesn’t finish, clearly just as speechless as Katya, who manages to regain function of her body.

She takes her phone back and clicks on the picture, wondering if somehow she had hallucinated its contents, but she hadn’t. In what looks like very clear bathroom lighting is her name, in her handwriting, scribbled across a collarbone, in the exact position that her own soulmark is in only on the opposite shoulder. 

By the time Ginger breaks the silence, Katya still can’t find the words, or any words for that matter. They come back all at once when Ginger asks, “Do you think Mattel sent it?”

It’s laughable. It really is, but Katya doesn’t laugh. She just looks at Ginger like she’s lost her mind. “What? Why would she? And how would she even have this picture?”

“I don’t know,” Ginger says, her tone almost mocking, “maybe because she’s your  _ soulmate _ ?” This time Katya does laugh. Ginger blinks at her before asking, “Are you serious right now?”

“Are you?” Katya laughs again, and Ginger gives her a look. “Come on. That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. It would be  _ great _ if she were my soulmate. Like,  _ really great _ , but she isn’t. That would be insane.”

Ginger looks exasperated. “Girl, what’s more insane: that Mattel is your soulmate and she sent a picture of her soulmark to you  _ because you literally left a note with your name and number on it _ ,  _ OR _ the idea that your soulmate living in bumfuck nowhere just  _ happened _ to get your number and decided to send you a picture of their soulmark with no context whatsoever?” She looks like the answer is obvious, but Katya really has to think about it.

“Well, technically the text might not even be  _ from _ my soulmate. It could be one of her friends who happens to know who I am or visited the coffee shop. I write on cups all the time  _ and _ wear a nametag, so, that’s actually the most likely possibility.”

“Girl, I can’t with you,” Ginger scoffs. “Seriously, Really look at that collarbone. Look how clear that skin is. Those are clues. I’m sure there are more if you look hard enough. Some hair? The background?” Katya zooms in, squinting as she searches every frame as close as she can. She doesn’t see anything. “Are you gonna answer that message or no?” 

“Oh, yeah. I forgot,” Katya says, and Ginger mutters to herself again. She types back:  _ who is this? how did you get my number? _ she hits send at the same moment Ginger grabs her phone again, probably to make sure Katya doesn’t make a fool of herself.

“You dumb bitch,  _ this _ is what you say? You’re lucky this girl is destined to love you, Mattel or not. Although really, there isn’t room to question that. It’s obviously her.” 

Katya snatches her phone back. “It isn’t a local area code.”

“So?  _ My  _ area code isn’t local either but that doesn’t mean I don’t live here. And anyway, you  _ just _ gave Mattel your number. What are the odds anyone else would be texting you from a number you don’t know?”

“Maybe she knows my soulmate. And when Adore said my name, she figured it out and gave her friend my number.”

“Okay then tell me the story of Mattel grabbing your arm again and what that felt like. Sounds like some soulmate mojo to me.”

“Honestly I think I was just overreacting,” Katya says, but even she’s not convinced. Still. Mattel couldn’t possibly be her soulmate. The universe could be kind, but not  _ that _ kind. 

“It’s a Wisconsin area code. Do you know where Mattel’s from?” 

Katya shakes her head, she looks back at the short thread of messages. “Maybe I should have said something else.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Ignoring Ginger, Katya types a new message:  _ sorry if that came across rude. i was just alarmed. _ She tilts the phone so Ginger can read it and approve or disapprove. She just rolls her eyes and says, “Maybe you should send her back a picture of your soulmark. So she doesn’t think she has the wrong number.”

“Should I?” 

“Why not? Go take one.”

“I don’t think I will. I don’t want all of this to unfold digitally, you know?”

“Shit, what are you gonna do then, fly to fucking Wisconsin and ask people if they know Trixie? Go take your picture. If you need me I’ll be on the fire escape having a cigarette. I won’t let you have one until you send that picture.”

The reminder of cigarettes gets Katya moving. She forgot how badly she needed one earlier, and that was  _ before _ her soulmate texted her. She groans as she heads to the bathroom, not bothering to close the door as she takes her shirt off and slips her bra strap down so it won’t be in the picture. She copies how her soulmate had taken the other picture, close enough that her face isn’t in the frame but far enough away that the angles of her collarbone aren’t lost. 

She sends the message she already has typed out, and then she attaches the picture. She hits send.

The next morning, Katya wakes up to the sunlight from the window, and she stretches before she sits up in bed. Despite her day off being a different day each week, Katya likes to keep every morning as routine as possible, and this one is no different. She brushes her teeth, gets dressed, and does her yoga. After, she showers, makes coffee, and eats breakfast. It’s like this every morning, regardless of what time she wakes up, and it’s for this reason that she doesn’t even think about her phone until after Ginger trudges into the kitchen like a zombie, heading straight for the coffee.

“Good morning, you grump,” she greets.

“Morning, you psychopath,” Ginger answers, her voice still full of sleep. “Heard back from your soulmate yet?” Katya’s eyes go wide and she all but runs to her room where her phone still sits on her dresser. “That’s what I thought,” she hears Ginger mumble behind her.

When she gets back to the kitchen, Ginger looks significantly more awake, and she watches Katya, curiously awaiting the details about any new developments. “Mattel still hasn’t texted me,” Katya tells her. “My soulmate hasn’t said anything else either.”

Ginger hums. “Alright so here’s the plan. You’re going to do your laundry while you clean the apartment, because  _ you said you would,  _ I might add, and then we’re going to the Admissions office. And after that, you’re going to the bar to talk to Mattel.”

Katya gapes across the table at her roommate. “I already told you I wouldn’t go over there unless she texted me.”

“I don’t care, you’re going over there anyway.”

“You’re coming with me, right?” Ginger laughs as if saying  _ as if _ . Katya sighs. “Fine, I’ll ask Adore to go with me.”

Katya doesn’t hear from Adore until the early evening, but it works out since she’d already accomplished everything else she needed to do, and she was starting to get anxious from the looks Ginger kept giving her from across the living room. 

**Adore** :  _ sorry just got off work. but hell yeah i’ll go with you. i’m free now? _

**Katya** :  _ great. i’ll see you there _

“Okay, Ginger, I’m going now.”

“Thank fuck,” she says. “Have a good time. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Katya rolls her eyes fondly as she heads for the door. “I’ll lock the door behind you,” Ginger calls out just before it closes between them. 

The walk to the bar from her apartment doesn’t take long. To get to work from home is only a fifteen minute walk, but to the bar, it’s only ten. Adore will get there before her, but that’s fine. She trusts that she won’t say anything too embarrassing. She spends the whole walk in a state of panic. Mattel still hadn’t texted her, so how would she react to seeing Katya in the bar? What if she didn’t want to speak to her? Is it bad for Katya to be going to see Mattel at all despite having traded soulmark pictures with her soulmate? The whole situation is messy and confusing, and quite frankly, Katya can’t wait to catch Adore up on everything and hear her thoughts.

When she finally arrives at the bar, she sees Mattel immediately. She’s standing at a raised table to the right, close to the bar. Her back is to Katya, but the pink hair is a dead giveaway. When she shifts over just a little bit, Katya is surprised to see that its  _ Adore _ she’s talking to.

Adore sees her at almost the same moment that Katya sees her, and she waves her over. Mattel doesn’t turn around, and she actually walks away from the table before Katya can approach it. That can’t be good.

“Hey, girl!” Adore says as soon as Katya sits down across from her. 

“Hey,” she answers, her eyes on Mattel as she stands at the bar talking to Pearl. “How was work?”

“It sucked. I had to work the register with that new girl. It was like she was afraid to talk to people so she kept getting all these names wrong. Honestly I would be surprised if she still works there after today.”

“That bad, huh?”

“It was a literal shit show. You should be glad you missed it.” Katya nods, her eyes flicker to Adore, but she can’t keep them from where Mattel is still standing. Adore notices and turns around to see what she’s looking at. When her eyes meet Katya’s again, she’s smirking. Katya sighs, looking down at the table. 

She’s about to tell Adore everything that happened with the text messages (and the lack thereof), but before she can, a certain someone is at the end of their table, setting drinks down in front of both of them. Katya’s eyes are wide when they meet Mattel’s. She honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if she hadn’t have come back to the table.

“You’re here,” she says, and Mattel cocks her head as she laughs. 

“I told you I would be.”

“No, I knew you were  _ here _ , but I meant  _ you’re here _ as in, you’re at this table.” Both Mattel and Adore are staring at Katya with confused expressions. She waits for one of them to say something, but no one does. Adore takes a sip of her drink and picks up a menu. “Um,” Katya starts again. “I was just worried you wouldn’t want to see me,” she finally admits

Mattel frowns. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“You never texted me,” Katya says. She feels embarrassed for saying it, and she wants to look away, but her eyes are trained on Mattel’s face, her expression shifting from confusion to something akin to amusement. Katya has no idea what could be funny. “What?”

Mattel laughs. “I did text you.” 

Katya blinks a few times before she asks, “You did?” Mattel nods, and Katya frowns down at her phone, unlocking it to scroll through her messages again, just in case she missed something. “I didn't get it.” Mattel laughs again, louder this time, and glances at Adore, who is peering at them over the edge of the menu hiding most of her face, clearly laughing as well. Katya really feels like she’s missed the joke. Or she’s the butt of it. Or both. “Should I restart my phone?” She doesn’t wait for an answer before doing so

The laughter is still happening when Mattel speaks again, but she’s looking at Katya with a fond expression that is  _ nice _ , but it only makes her feel more confused. “I’ll text you again tomorrow. How about that?”

“Why not now?”

“Why would I text you now when I have you sitting at my table, silly?”

“Um…” Katya doesn’t know what to say to that. Katya is  _ lost _ .

“I have to go check on my other tables, but I’ll be back, okay?” She tells them. Her hand brushes against the sleeve of Katya’s upper arm as she passes, and it makes the blonde’s heart rate skyrocket.

As soon as she’s gone, Katya leans towards Adore with a determined urgency. “What did I miss?” She’s still half hiding behind the menu, and Katya forcefully swats it back down to the table. “Adore, seriously. I need to talk to you.”

Adore looks like she’s having a hard time looking serious, but since she hardly ever  _ is _ serious, Katya lets herself dismiss it. Her phone cuts back on, and she looks to see if any new messages loaded, but it looks the same as before. She opens the thread with the soumarks and slides it in front of Adore, who almost falls out of her chair as soon as she sees it. She keeps her hand over her mouth as she attempts to regain her composure, probably due to shock.

“I know, right! I got this last night. Ginger made me send mine back because she didn't want my soulmate to think she texted the wrong number.”

“Wow,” Adore finally says. “That’s—wow.”

“I know. She hasn’t said anything else though, so I’m not sure I should either. To be honest, I have no fucking idea what I’m doing.” 

She pauses for a moment as Mattel walks past their table to drop food off at a couple sitting behind them before heading back to the bar. She turns to wink at Katya, who heats up at the gesture. She can’t believe she’s still lusting after another woman after receiving physical confirmation that her soulmate is out there somewhere, probably in Wisconsin and probably not flirting with someone else in a bar. She frowns and looks back at Adore, who’s staring at her with her hands folded in front of her face. 

“Is it bad that I still wanted to hear from Mattel, too? Like this morning I couldn’t have cared less that my soulmate hadn’t said anything else, but I was crushed to see that Mattel hadn’t texted me.”

“Wait, who’s Mattel?”

Katya nods over to the bar, where Mattel now stands at the computer by the wall, probably putting in an order. “You know,  _ Tracy _ .”

“Right, Tracy. Right,” Adore nods. “So you’re saying you want  _ her _ more than your  _ soulmate _ ?”

Katya cringes, “It sounds so bad when you say it like that, but…I mean, kind of, yeah. I just…she’s so funny. She’s smart, she’s beautiful. She makes me laugh. I haven’t heard her do any music related stuff yet, but I’m sure she’s more talented than my brain can handle.” Adore nods. “And the worst part is, you know how people look like their names?” Adore nods again. “Mattel  _ looks _ like she could be named Trixie. Like  _ really _ . It’s uncanny.”

Adore cracks up again, and Katya glares at her.

“Will you stop laughing? This is serious. I don’t know what to do.”

“Okay, sorry, fine,” Adore says. She’s still laughing, but she calms down enough that Katya can ignore it. “What do you need help with?” 

Katya gapes at her. Did she miss that whole conversation? “Are you high?”

Adore seems to grow more serious when faced with that question. “No, I pinky promise you,” she says as she holds out her pinky. “I’m just laughing because of something that happened yesterday.”

Katya is a little relieved at the opportunity to get her mind off of her current situation, even if she’s somehow even more confused than before. “What happened?”

For a moment, Adore doesn’t actually say anything she just looks like she’s trying to figure something out. “Long story short, it turns out that Tr— _ Mattel _ ,” Katya smiles at her using the nickname she picked instead of Tracy, “her roommate, Kim, knows Bianca. She’s gonna set us up on a blind date.”

The news is so shocking to Katya that she starts slamming her hand against the table with gusto. “Are you serious!” she screeches. A lot of people are staring at her, but she doesn’t care. This is  _ huge _ news. Adore nods, grinning ear to ear. “Holy shit! I can’t believe you  _ and  _ Alaska found your soulmates on like, the same day.”

“I mean, I haven’t met her yet, but…” Adore shrugs, but the smile is still on her face as she takes another sip of her drink. “And hey, don’t count out your text messages.”

“Do you think that counts?”

“Of course,” Adore says. “You’ve seen your soulmate’s mark. I haven’t even seen my soulmate herself.”

Katya frowns, “I haven’t either.”

“Right,” Adore says. “But the  _ mark _ .”

“Hmm.” Katya wonders if Adore is even the best person to get advice on this situation. She voices her thoughts anyway. “Is it bad of me to wish my soulmate hadn’t texted me at all?” Adore raises both her eyebrows, obviously not expecting Katya to say such a thing. “I just mean, if she had waited. Obviously I want to meet her, but this is a little cryptic.” Katya checks her phone again just in case, but there are no new messages. “I just like Mattel.  _ A lot _ . I can’t stop thinning about her.”

Adore sighs, “I get it. You know what I think you should do? Just let it play out. Soulmates are a fate thing right? So sit back and let fate do the work.”

It’s a good point, but the more Katya thinks about it, the closer she feels to an existential spiral. She doesn’t tell Adore that though. Instead, she just changes the subject. “Hey, I have some pretty big news, too,” she says, just as Mattel returns.

“Oh, sorry. Did I interrupt?”

Katya feels frozen in space for a moment before her brain catches back up, reeling from Mattel’s presence  _ alone _ . Katya’s feelings are obviously out of control, but then again…Mattel is standing closer to her than last time. Her hip bumps against Katya’s knee. Katya swallows. “No, it’s okay. You can stay to hear it if you want.” Mattel does a little cheer and Katya blushes. “So I went to the admissions office today, at the university.”

“What!” Adore exclaims. “That’s awesome! How’d it go?”

“Really well actually,” Katya tells them. “I’m starting back at school in August. I’ll be majoring in fashion design with a minor in language studies.” Adore cheers for her, hollering loud enough for people to curiously look around the room like something exciting is happening, and gives Katya a double high five across the table.

“Congratulations,” Mattel says from next to her. Her eyes are soft, looking at Katya like this is the best news she’s ever heard about anyone ever. She hovers like she wants to lean over and hug Katya, but instead she takes a small, almost imperceptible step back. It confuses Katya and is a little awkward, which is of course the last thing she wants, so she suggests they go ahead and order food even though she hasn’t even really looked at the menu or given it any real thought.

“Share nachos with me,” Adore says, and that settles that. Mattel smiles at Katya again before she leaves, and everything about her is so warm in this moment that Katya can actually feel herself turning into a wholeass puddle right on this barstool. “Woah,” Adore says after a moment, and Katya looks back at her. “Literally the face you were just making is the same one Alaska was making when she went to talk to Courtney. I’m just going to dub it  _ soulmate face _ .”

“But Mattel isn’t my soulmate.”

“Right,” Adore says. 

“She isn’t!” Adore just laughs. “You’re so annoying. Ginger was acting the same way last night  _ and  _ all day today. She’s  _ convinced _ that Mattel is my soulmate, even though I told her that was insane logic.”

“How so?” Adore asks, genuinely curious. Katya is more than happy to tell her. It doesn’t take as long as she thought it would, and by the end, it really doesn’t sound as convincing as it had in Katya’s brain. Still, Adore nods as she hums in thought. “Nice, nice. Just remember that everything is an option until it isn’t.”

Katya can’t decide if that makes no sense or if its the most brilliant thing she’s ever heard.

It’s while Adore is telling her everything Kim said about Bianca that Katya notices a large chalkboard style sign above the bar—something for drink specials and other promotional things. It’s really well done. Bright and colorful, surrounded by doodles, written in cute handwriting that looks like it came from the notes middle school girls always passed each other in class. Something about it is familiar to Katya, but she can’t figure out what.

She looks back at Adore, “They said your soulmate was an asshole?”

She laughs, “Kind of? But apparently it’s just how she is. Kim told me she would have never imagined us being soulmates, and there isn’t a brain cell in her that can imagine us being a couple. It makes me so curious. Also, we apparently have a sizable age difference, but they wouldn’t tell me how many years it is. Kim doesn’t want to put her job at risk.”

Mattel sets their nachos on the table. “Are you telling her about Bianca?” Adore nods, her mouth already full. Mattel looks at Katya, eyes wide as she shakes her head. “It’s insane. I think we’re all going to be at the restaurant when they meet because it’s really that surreal. You definitely have to come with us.”

“If you’ll be there, I’m down,” Katya says. Of course she meant it, but she did  _ not _ mean to say something so sappy today. It’s hard to regret it though when Trixie smiles at her like she’s hung the fucking moon. Her gaze gets so intense that Katya has to look away. She finds herself looking at the sign again.

“Eat some nachos, bitch,” Adore says. Honestly Katya had already forgotten about them, but she does what Adore tells her. She wants to offer some to Mattel, but she’s already walked back to another table to refill their waters.

While they eat their nachos. Katya talks more about going back to school, and the fashion program the university had developed the year after she left. “Go figure, right?” Katya jokes, but honestly, she’s glad that it worked out the way it did. It’s still a new program, but it’s been successful for three years now which means its off the ground enough that Katya can see it through all the way to a degree, not worried about it crumbling beneath her feet after a trial run.

Adore talks about the music program some, and admits that she might have overlapping classes with Mattel in the future. Apparently they’ve talked about it, which surprises Katya. She stares up at the sign as she wonders what would happen if Trixie became a staple in her group of friends. Would that be awkward when Katya officially meets her soulmate?

She must have on one of those faces that Alaska calls _ Katya’s brain frying frenzy _ because Adore lightly kicks her under the table and says, “Just let it play out.”

Mattel comes by a few times to swipe some of their nachos, running away when she spots her manager making rounds at the tables. “Shit,” she says, bolting for anything to make her look busy. This time, it’s a table with dirty dishes. When she carries them back by them she says, “If he comes by here make sure you brag about me, okay?”

Of course, they do. He calls her Tracy, and Katya feels a swell of warmth in her chest that she gets to call her something special that her manager doesn’t.

She catches herself staring at the sign again, and this time, Adore frowns and turns to look at what Katya’s been staring at on and off for this whole time. “Oh shit, all the drink specials are written up there. I never noticed that sign before.”

“Me neither,” Katya admits. “Once I noticed though, I couldn’t stop staring at it. It kind of reminds me of something, but I’m not sure what.”

“You like it?” Mattel asks, approaching the table in a perfectly timed moment. “I did it myself, doodles and all.”

Katya stares at it in awe. “Wow. Your handwriting is beautiful.” 

She sees Adore’s jaw drop out of the corner of her eye before spinning back around to look at the sign again. She turns back to the table not even a second later. “Are you kidding me?” 

Katya tears her eyes away from the beautiful board to look at Adore. It sounded like that was directed at her, but that wouldn’t make sense. She’s stunned to see the brunette staring at her like she really can’t believe Katya had just  _ said that _ so she asks, “Are you talking to me?” She looks nervously to Mattel, who’s smiling at her with those soft eyes again so she looks back to Adore. 

“Um,” Adore says, “No, I was just…this guy behind you made a vulgar gesture at something and I was just like…” she trails off from her ramble that Katya is absolutely  _ not _ following, and looks to Mattel for help. 

“I’ll go tell him he can’t do that in here,” she says, and just like that, Katya decides something must have actually happened.

Adore glances back at the sign again. “Unbelievable,” she says when she turns back.

“Isn’t it?” Katya says, smiling. “Is there anything she can’t do?”

“God, who knows,” Adore says as she stands up. “I’ll be right back. I need to make a phone call.”

While she’s gone, Katya occupies herself with checking her phone and swirling the straw around her drink. She can’t help but break into a wide, borderline psychotic smile when she sees Mattel slip into Adore’s seat. “Hey, you,” she says. “You’re not going to get in trouble are you?”

Mattel shakes her head. “I’m not staying long, and right now I only have two tables. Including you and Adore.”

“Ah,” Katya says. Her phone lights up with a text from Ginger, and it just makes Katya think about Mattel’s long lost text. “I can’t believe I didn’t get your message. I wonder why that is.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself about it,” Mattel responds. Katya can’t help but be puzzled by her reaction. It’s all smiles and soft eyes, like it has been all night. There has been no over the top laughing and really, no negative emotions at all. She isn’t sure if it’s more weird that she expected them or that they’re absent. But she doesn’t know how to comment on that, so she doesn’t.

Instead, she voices something else that just recently occurred to her. “You know, it’s pretty unfair that you know my real name now, and I still don’t know yours.” Mattel’s eyes widen, like she hadn’t thought about that either. “Don’t get me wrong, I love having a special name to call you (Mattel giggles into her hand, and Katya thinks it’s just the cutest thing ever), but what gives? That  _ and _ you have my number but I still don’t have yours? That’s what we call a power imbalance, mama.”

For the first time that night, Katya gets to hear the banshee scream as Mattel doubles over in laughter. She lets it all out and then looks at Katya with an expression that both aggressively turns Katya on but also makes her suspicious. “Maybe that’s how I want it,” she says, her voice low. And just when Katya thought she would make it out of this alive, she feels Mattel running her ankle along the whole length of Katya’s calf. 

“I’m fine with that,” she chokes out, and Mattel smirks at her. She stands.

“Good,” this time when she walks past Katya, her fingers dance up her thigh, and Katya is almost positive she has just fully died in this bar. She texts Ginger back to vaguely tell her that  _ It’s going good but also, I’m dying. _

She doesn’t hear back until Adore has returned to the table. “Do you work tomorrow?”

Adore shakes her head. “I got the day off. Thank  _ god _ . Alaska’s working in the morning though. And I think Sandy was going to be there, but like I said, she’s not going to make it past today. 

“Hopefully,” Katya says. She can’t imagine dealing with what Adore told her about today, though, thankfully, it wouldn’t be as bad on a Sunday morning as it would a Saturday morning. Sunday mornings are weird. Most singles who don’t know their soulmate yet don’t come in on Sunday mornings. Alaska thinks it has something to do with hangovers, and honestly, it probably does. They mostly see white married couples headed to church, which means they get one big rush that lasts from open until about 10:30. After that, it’s smooth sailing with just a few people popping in here and there for a caffeine fix. Sometimes there’s another pop that night  _ when all the singles finally give up on hair of the dog and crawl out of their crumb infested beds _ , as Alaska always says, but it depends on the week. 

Either way, she’s only working until three o’clock tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh here is the final chapter! thank you so much for supporting me this whole time! i feel so encouraged! i'm already working on the next one <3 i hope you guys enjoy!!

Ginger had been suspiciously patient with Katya when she got home last night. She told her everything that happened, and Ginger didn’t crack a single joke or roll her eyes the entire time. Honestly, it was unnerving, but at the same time, Katya appreciated it. The last thing she needed on top of this fanfiction level shit was her roommate scheming against her with her friends. 

Which honestly, Katya wouldn’t put it past any of them.

So when Ginger waves her farewell the following morning with a “good luck at work” and “tell Alaska I said hey,” Katya knows she’s up to something. How else would she know that Alaska was working this morning? And why is she up so early anyway? Katya doesn’t have too much time to dwell on it, so she pushes the thought from her mind as she starts the trek to the coffee shop.

It has now been over twenty-four hours since her soulmate and she had sent anything to each other, and whenever Katya looks at the thread, it’s her own messages looking back at her, mocking the whole situation. She’s starting to theorize that the whole thing is staged, and the soulmark was faked by someone who thought it would be funny to trick her into showing them her soulmark. 

She’d thought several times about messaging them back, but decided against it each time. She isn’t even sure what she would say…  _ You’re a lot quieter than your name makes you sound. Or do you hate me already? ( _ Nope.)  _ I know it sounds like I’m accusing you of tricking me, but actually…that’s exactly what I’m doing? ( _ Not that.)  _ Hey, it’s cool to meet you but I think I’m falling in love with someone else?  _ (Fuck no.)

Realistically, they were the one that started this conversion. They know where to go if they want to finish it.

Katya makes it to work in record time, and she figures it has to do with stress walking (its speed walking but with  _ anxiety _ ). She lets herself in and starts opening the store, surprised when Alaska shows up early as well. It’s only by five minutes, but considering she’s late on the daily, Katya considers this  _ early _ . For sure.

“Hey, girl,” Alaska says, pulling off her ridiculously large sunglasses, even though the sun hasn’t even risen yet. “How was your day off? Are you feeling better? Adore said you were falling apart on Friday night.”

And  _ great _ . There’s about to be a hundred old people banging down the door in fifteen minutes or so to get their coffee before the early service starts. How is Katya supposed to jump into this conversation and resolve it all now?

As it turns out, she can’t. She really can’t. The conversation is ongoing in little chunks until the afternoon arrives, and by the end, Katya is sure she’s just confused Alaska.

“Hold on,” Alaska says when the hour finally comes that not a single soul walks up to the counter. The arrival of 1:00pm is a blessing in and of itself. “So you’re telling me that your soulmate messaged you, but you scared them off by being stupid, and you actively don’t care because you have feelings for someone else anyway?”

Katya suppresses a groan. “More or less, yeah. Although you really flubbed a few of those details. I don’t think I scared anyone off. Which was the point of me telling you the Friday night story with me and Mattel.”

She’s been referring to  _ Tracy _ as Mattel this entire morning, but it isn’t until now that Alaska stops to really question it. “Wait. Mattel?”

“You know…  _ Tracy _ .”

“Oh, right.” Alaska nods, getting it for a moment before making a face of deep and utter confusion before asking, “She told you her last name?”

“No...?” Katya wonders if she’s the one having a stroke or if Alaska is.

“But... _ Mattel _ ,” Alaska says with a certain firmness that makes Katya feel like she needs to sit down.

“Wait, hold on,” Katya starts. “Are you telling me…Mattel’s her last name?” Alaska nods. “You’re fucking lying.” Katya grabs onto the counter for support, even though she knows if she’s going down, all the counter will be good for is a fucking concussion.

“Swear to god I’m not,” Alaska says. “Courtney told me. I’ve seen her facebook profile. Her last name is Mattel. I didn’t believe her so she showed me her ID.”

Katya feels like she’s living in some kind of insane warp speed dream, and she leans forward with her hands on her knees when she feels like the counter failed her. She gapes at Alaska as she settles into this new position.

“We were giving each other nicknames at random. How the actual hell did I manage to pick one of her three actual names.”

“Two,” Alaska says. “She only has two names. No middle name.”

Katya shakes her head in disbelief. She needs something to do to distract herself, but unfortunately, there  _ is _ nothing. She’s never been jealous of a balding white man doing a book of sudoku puzzles in the corner before, but she supposes there’s a first time for everything. 

She could change the subject, but they’ve already covered everything. Katya told her the story of Friday night as well as what happened yesterday, they’ve talked about the situation with Adore’s soulmate, Katya told her about going back to school, Alaska talked about Courtney and what their relationship was blooming into.

So now, Katya is left with silence.

She makes herself some coffee, writing down all the ingredients she uses so they’re accounted for. She offers to make Alaska something, but she denies. checking her watch one too many times in succession.

“Waiting on something?” Katya asks her.

“No, I’m just…I don’t know. Why do you care?” Alaska deflects. “Anyway, the more important question is do you really not think you and _ Mattel _ are soulmates?”

Katya’s mouth goes dry. But she’s been through this. With Ginger, with Adore, and now with Alaska. She releases an exasperated laugh. “ _ No _ , and it would be great if everyone could stop bringing that up.”

“Why?” Alaska says. “You wish she was don’t you?” And it’s definitely more of a statement than a question. Katya doesn’t even dignify it with a response. Alaska smirks, clearly knowing she’s right, but Katya ignores her. She’s ready for this shift to be over, but she already knows it’ll drag by for the remaining hour and a half. It always does.

But then, the unexpected happens.

Adore comes running in wearing her apron, and Katya frowns, “Um, hi?”

“Hey,” Adore waves, smiling like nothing weird is happening.

“I thought you were off today?”

“Yeah, I’m covering for someone,” she explains, and Katya snorts. She wants to ask who, but before she can, Adore has already slipped into the back room. “I’ll be back,” she calls out over her shoulder, and Katya squints. First at the doorway and then again at Alaska, who just shrugs.

“Let’s go ahead and start cleaning some of these machines,” she suggests, and it’s almost too much for Katya to handle. Since when does Alaska initiate cleaning? She decides not to say anything and instead gets to work.  _ Anything _ that could make the evening come sooner, Katya is down. Even if it means scrubbing grime off the back of every machine in this joint.

It’s almost two o’clock when the sole customer in the shop gets up and leaves, waving as he does so. He’s one of those silent regulars that always comes at the same time weekly. Katya only knows this because she worked the same shift for almost a month, and he was the only one around for at least an hour each time. 

“It’s intentional,” he had told her. “I met my soulmate in college. It’s just nice to be in a quiet coffee shop regularly. This is always the time it’s the most at ease.” Katya had laughed.  _ You don’t have to tell me twice _ , she had joked, hoping he wouldn’t ask what she expected him to next. “Have you met your soulmate?” She shook her head, keeping her expression neutral. “You will,” he sounded so sure, and Katya wondered what that kind of confidence in the future must feel like.

The jingle of the bell tears her from her thoughts and she glances over to see if Alaska is going to take the guest who just walked in, but to Katya’s surprise, she’s no longer anywhere to be found behind the counter.

Frowning, Katya sets down the towel she was cleaning with to wash her hands before she has to handle anything for a guest. She’s drying her hands off against her apron when she turns around, picking up an empty recyclable cup and a sharpie without looking up. Even though there’s no reason to need both of them actively behind the counter right now, Katya’s a little irritated that Alaska bailed. Maybe she’s in the bathroom? Or she’s goofing off with Adore, who Katya  _ still _ can’t figure out why she decided to cover for anyone on her day off. Either way, it would have been nice if she’d said something before stepping out.

She still hasn’t looked up to see whoever is now standing at the counter. She knows she should—not giving your best customer service smile to the wrong person is all it takes to get a terrible yelp review, but what the hell. It’s Sunday afternoon and all the Karens are already at home eating their weekly, post-church family dinners.

“Name?” she prompts, opening the marker.

“Trixie.”

.

.

.

Trixie has been stressed about texting Katya, but after typing and deleting message after message until Kim comes out to yell at her to  _ get on with it already _ , she is  _ beyond _ . She has toyed with so many first message drafts that she can’t recall the ones she thought were her favorites, nor the ones she thought didn’t deserve the time of day.

In the end, she almost doesn’t text her.

It feels like playing stupid games, just being flirty and holding back the truth for a future time that she is in total control over. The pressure is unreal and ridiculous, and Trixie doesn’t want it.

“Maybe you should send her a nude,” Kim jokes as she comes out to get a glass of water, and overtaken by sudden inspiration, Trixie screeches, jumping off the couch and running into the bathroom, leaving behind a vaguely disturbed Kim. 

Everything happens so fast. Trixie is shaking as she strips enough to reveal her soulmark against her naked shoulder, but it only takes a couple of tries to nail the perfect picture. She already has Katya’s number saved, so she opens a new message and attaches the picture before she can question whether or not it’s a good idea.

She hits send.

She goes to bed.

Waking up the next morning, she’s too sleepy to think about anything other than how much she doesn’t want to get up and go to work, but after a few hits of the snooze button and hopeless attempts to get as comfortable as she was moments ago, she remembers the message she sent last night.

Trixie scrambles around her bed covers to find her phone before she remembers its sitting on the nightstand. She feels like she just sat up too fast, but she stands up anyway, taking a single deep breath before picking up her phone and turning it on.

Three new messages. All from Katya.

The first says:  _ who is this? how did you get my number? _

The second says:  _ sorry if that came across rude. i was just alarmed. _

The third is a picture of her soulmark. The sight of it makes Trixie sink to her knees, shifting to sit on her fluffy pink rug.  _ Her name _ in  _ her fucking handwriting  _ on  _ Katya’s body _ . 

She opens the picture and stares at it while her heart and her brain race to catch up to this moment. The memory of her skin on Katya’s and what that felt like, the way her heart has soared every time their eyes met, and the way Katya’s smile lit her up from the inside out all rush back viscerally. It’s almost like she can’t catch her breath.

She goes back to the message thread, realizing she had nervously skimmed the messages themselves after her eyes had fallen first on the picture. The words snap her back to reality. She frowns. “What?” she asks herself out loud before reading the messages again, then a third time, and a fourth. “What?” She says again, louder. “Kim!” she yells out, moving back to her feet. 

Her roommate meets her in the doorway. “Are you okay?”

“Um,” Trixie says, passing her phone to Kim, who takes it without looking. 

“I’m not about to see nudes am I?” she deadpans. Trixie scoffs and flails her hands at the phone, emphasising its importance. “Okayy,” Kim says. She looks. “Holy shit,” she mumbles. Trixie watches her click on the picture just as she did. “Holy shit!” She stares at it for another moment and tries handing the phone back to Trixie. “That’s a little unreal to look at. Wow, I had no idea you sent your soulmark. Good idea though. And obviously it was the right move.”

“No,” Trixie says, pushing the phone back. “Did you see the messages?”

Kim frowns before going back. “Shit,” she says again before looking up. “It sounds like she doesn’t know who you are,” Kim laughs nervously. Trixie is too shocked to laugh with her. 

“You think so? You don’t think she knows? I mean, it’s pretty obvious…”

“I’ve literally never met her, but that’s what it seems like. You should talk to Adore. See what she thinks since she knows Katya better. Maybe you can get coffee before work.”

At the mention of work, Trixie’s eyes widen. She’s going to be late if she doesn’t start moving. She’s brushing her teeth when Kim tells her “Let me know what happens” and goes back to her room. Trixie is too distracted to imagine the possibilities, which she is absolutely not going to complain about. Before she leaves the apartment, she shoots a quick text to Adore.

**Trixie:** _I need to talk to you_.

She’s surprised that the response comes so quickly. 

**Adore** :  _ i’m at work but still here. whats up? _

**Trixie** :  _ i’m about to be at work too. open to close today. we’ll figure something out for later, it’s not urgent. _

A moment later, she decides to follow up with:  _ it’s about Katya _

Adore tells her she can come by after she gets off work later, and it’s enough to put Trixie at some kind of ease. In the meantime, she decides not to answer Katya’s messages. And of course, ask her other friends for advice.

Pearl is yawning as she starts up a pot of coffee, and Trixie races over to her. “Pearl! Pearl, I need to talk to you. I need your opinion on something.”

“How are you already this energetic?”

Trixie ignores her question as she shows Pearl the messages. If she can count on Pearl for one thing, it’s the fact that she isn’t going to gush over the soulmarks like everyone else does. Her facial expressions don’t change as she glances everything over a few times and passes Trixie her phone. 

“Yeah, so I definitely don’t think she knows it’s you. I think she probably thinks its like, a soulmate she’s never met or spoken to that just happened to get her number.”

“But she literally gave me her number last night. What are the chances a different number would text her?”

“Girl, I don’t know. Maybe she’s just  _ that _ oblivious.” Trixie is at a loss for words. “She is a lesbian, after all, right?”

When Courtney arrives early that evening, Trixie decides to ask her what she thinks. So far the consensus is that Katya is clueless, but Trixie is so stunned about that possibility that she isn’t sure she really believes it. Courtney seems to agree.

“She’s pretty smart, I think. But by now, she’s probably panicking because you never answered her,” she shrugs. “Don’t be that asshole.”

_ Oh god _ , Trixie had been so confused, she hadn’t even thought about that. Fortunately, Adore just texted her to tell her she was on the way.  _ ETA five minutes. btw, katya is meeting me here but i’ll get there first so don’t freak out _ .

Too late.

Trixie wastes no time in showing Adore the messages. She decided that if Katya’s coming over here, there’s less of a rush to decide if she should text her again, but an even bigger rush to figure out what to  _ say _ . She’ll have all the answers soon enough, whether she’s ready for them or not.

Adore laughs when she reads the messages, which is somehow calming to Trixie.

“Girl, she really is clueless. Her roommate came by when I was on break to ask me what was going on and we swapped stories. Ginger doesn’t even know you and has only heard Katya’s version of everything, but even  _ she _ knows you two are soulmates. So, yeah. We’ll just see what she says when she gets here.” Trixie can only stare at her. “Speak of the devil,” she says, waving toward the door where Katya is about to presumably walk up. 

“Okay, well.” Trixie swallows. “I’ll be back with drinks?” She shifts nervously, and Adore notices. 

“Hey, it’s okay. Trust me, she has no idea what’s going on. It’s gonna be hilarious.”

Trixie will believe it when she sees it.

And sure enough, she sees it.

It starts with Katya thinking Trixie is upset with her, not wanting to see her (which is the last thing Trixie expected because  _ all _ she wants to do is see Katya), and it quickly becomes clear that Adore was right. “You never texted me,” Katya says, and Trixie can’t help but laugh, her eyes bright and her heart full. She likes Katya so much. 

“I did text you,” she says, and Katya’s face twists in confusion. She checks her phone again, and Trixie laughs again. The blonde’s pout is nothing short of endearing, and Trixie makes the spontaneous decision to have some fun with this situation. 

Since it’s a Saturday night, the bar is busy enough that Trixie has a full section for most of the time Katya and Adore are there, but any chance she gets to stop by their table, she takes full advantage. Between flirty comments, small touches, and of course the smiles she couldn’t wipe off if she wanted to, Trixie relishes every moment. Katya is flustered every time she’s around, and it’s cute the way she  _ thinks _ her soulmate is someone else entirely, but she is clearly more interested in Trixie. 

It speaks volumes, and Trixie thinks that if she can’t kiss her soon, she’s going to spontaneously combust.

She’s sure that Katya’s cluelessness has reached its limit, but to her surprise (and Adore’s), it hasn’t. Trixie hadn’t even thought about her handwriting being in Katya’s eyesight. She thought it was game over when she caught her staring at the drink specials sign, but when she went over to talk to her about it, Katya still hadn’t made the connection. 

“She’s incredible,” Trixie tells Courtney while she waits on her to finish up the drinks for one of her other tables. “Like, she really has no idea, even after everything, and it’s so cute. Frustrating as hell, but  _ god _ . She keeps pouting about  _ not getting my text, _ and I can’t handle it.”

“She keeps looking at you whenever you come over here. I think she might have been drooling,” Courtney teases back, and Trixie groans. “No, but really, you can see in her eyes how badly she wants you. You should be proud, especially since she thinks someone else is her soulmate. She’ll probably jump your bones the second she learns the truth.”

“I’d be okay with that,” Trixie says, turning around to look at Katya, who of course, is already looking at her. She winks, and Katya blushes, looking away. Trixie turns back to Courtney. “How should I tell her? I told her I would text her tomorrow. If I referenced myself specifically, she would have to catch on then. But also I want her to find out in person, you know?”

Courtney thinks for a moment. “You’re off tomorrow right?” Trixie nods. “What if you went by the coffee shop? Alaska told me she and Katya are working in the morning. Your name would be out in the open, and with it, the truth. You would also see her reaction first hand, and then if she thought you were messing with her, you’d be right there to show her your soumark face to face.”

“That’s actually a really good idea,” Trixie says. “And I’m sure I could get everyone else in on it too, if I needed to.” Courtney winks at her, and Trixie suddenly feels more bold than ever.

She doesn’t let Katya leave without getting a few innuendos in, of course with more small touches, her personal favorite being trailing her fingers up Katya’s thigh. The blonde had sucked in a harsh breath and turned a deep red. She seemed unable to sit still for minutes after and knocked the rest of her drink back in one go.

While Trixie was unsure of her power over the situation before, she’s living for it now. 

But still, them being on the same page is going to be even better. 

After her shift is over that night, she texts Adore what Courtney had suggested about what she should do tomorrow, and immediately Adore creates a group chat and adds Kim and some people whose numbers Trixie doesn’t recognize that turn out to be Alaska and Ginger. They do a lot of the planning for her, and tell Trixie that her only job is to come in at two o’clock and order something like she would anywhere else.

The plan is vague, but Trixie doesn’t mind, especially considering there isn’t any way she could predict how it’s going to unfold.

She’s nervous nonetheless, and cleans the entire apartment that morning in an effort to distract herself. Kim is convinced she’s lost her mind.

It’s still technically the morning when Trixie starts to fret over what she wants to wear, and she makes Kim sit on her bed as she digs through her closet, and it’s a good thing her roommate is there because otherwise Trixie would have gone back and forth between approximately five dresses and run out of time to perfect her makeup.

Kim’s first message in the group chat was questioning her role in the entire ordeal, but today, her role has been decided. She keeps Trixie in line and on time as she gets ready, affirming her beauty decisions and shuffling her out the door with just enough time to get to the coffee shop. But then Trixie panics as soon as she’s out in the hallway, and Kim decides to drive her. 

“Alaska says to park in the back. She’s going to let you in so you can be in the vicinity. Since we all know you secretly want to see what happens.”

If Trixie’s right (she knows she is), Kim doesn’t show it. “Okay,” she says. Neither of them talk until Kim puts her car in park and tells Trixie that she needs to get in there. “It’s already two.”

“I’m nervous,” Trixie admits, and Kim sighs, leveling her with a serious look.

“You’re amazing. Katya already likes you. There’s nowhere to go but up.” It’s exactly what Trixie needed to hear, and she pulls Kim in for a hug before she gets out of the car. “Good luck!” Kim calls after her as she heads to the back door where Adore is standing, giving her a thumbs up as she makes her way to the front door.

“Wait, shit,” Adore suddenly says, running over to Trixie. “Send her a text. She won’t get it, probably, but like,” she shrugs. “You said you would, and in case she keeps being a dumbass, you’ll have something to fall back on.”

“As if my soulmark isn't enough,” Trixie says, but she pulls out her phone anyway. It’s a good idea, but she isn’t sure what she should say. She pulls out her phone as she considers a few things she  _ could _ say. In an attempt not to overthink it, she forces her mind to step back. She chuckles as she types her message, already walking through the door as she hits send.

**Trixie:** _ you’re so dumb, red. but i like you. _

When she walks in, the first thing she notices is that  _ no one _ is in the coffee shop. Katya is behind the counter, cleaning something with her back to the door, and Alaska is sneaking through the doorway that presumably leads to the back. The bell above the door jingles, and Trixie freezes in place, half expecting Katya to turn around, but she doesn’t. Instead, she looks around before sighing and going to wash her hands at the sink. 

Trixie’s heart picks up when Katya turns around, and she steps forward towards the counter. She’s surprised that Katya doesn’t look up, and she has to fight back a laugh at the way it’s like a middle finger to customer service. She can’t wait for Katya to know who her sole customer is, but Trixie isn’t disappointed by the way this is going. At this rate, Katya will hear her name before she sees her face, and honestly? That’s perfect.

Trixie is positively beaming as she watches Katya get her sharpie ready. “Name?” she asks, and Trixie feels all her built up excitement starting to bubble over. She’s almost afraid that when she opens her mouth she’s going to squeal instead of speak, but she counts to three.

She takes a deep breath.

“Trixie,” she says, and her eyes stay firm on Katya, watching as she starts to write her name before it really sinks in. Her jaw goes slack before she looks up, and when she finally does, she drops both the cup and the marker.

She doesn’t say anything, and Trixie waits patiently, smiling so big that her jaw is starting to grow sore.

“Wait,” Katya says. But she doesn’t follow it up with anything, and she doesn’t look like she’s going to. She’s stunned silent, and a laugh bubbles its way out of Trixie. “Is this real?” Katya says, quiet enough to pass for a whisper, and Trixie just wants to climb over the counter and pull her in and show her just how real it is, but she holds back.

“Katya,” she says, and she watches the blonde almost literally shiver as she says her name. “Did you get my text yet?” The blonde doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Trixie leans against the counter. “Well?”

Instead of saying anything, Katya reaches into her back pocket and pulls her phone out, unlocking it. Trixie takes advantage of the opportunity and pulls her own phone out as well, typing in a quick followup message just in case Katya has any remaining doubts. 

**Trixie:** _kiss me already_

She sees the moment Katya gets the message written on her beautiful, stunned face, her blue eyes darting up to meet Trixie’s. It feels like the longest silence before Katya finally speaks. “Are you serious?” Her voice still sounds in disbelief, but her smile gives her away. Trixie beams back at her.

“Please get the fuck over here,” she says. “If you don’t kiss me right now, I might fall apart.”

“You don’t want your coffee?” Katya asks, and it takes Trixie a moment to realize she’s joking.

“Shut up!” Trixie screeches, and Katya laughs. “I want  _ you _ . Come here.  _ Please _ .” But Katya doesn’t move. She just stares at Trixie, awestruck. “I swear to god, I will climb over this counter if you don’t—” Her sentence ends abruptly when  _ Katya _ is the one who climbs over the counter.

It’s clumsy and awkward, but Trixie laughs, catching Katya as she all but falls off. The moment they touch is like the sky clearing after a storm, and Trixie can appreciate it for the first time as what it really is: a soulmate connection. Her eyes watch Katya as she watches everything sink in and the smile grow across her face, no doubt in her mind what’s going on—what they are to each other.

“I’m such an idiot,” Katya blurts, and Trixie has to bury her face in Katya’s hair to hide at least half of her laughter, but she pulls back when she feels the other girls hands tighten around her waist. “Why didn’t you tell me yesterday?”

“I was having too much fun messing with you,” Trixie says with a wink. She loops her arms around Katya, one hand gliding up her neck to tangle in her hair. It’s softer than she imagined. “Plus, now you have to make it up to me.”

“Oh?” Katya asks, brushing a loose strand of hair behind Trixie’s ear. She never wants to let her go.

“For thinking some other bitch was your soulmate.”

Katya’s expression softens, and Trixie can see the clarity in her eyes when she says, “The only person I wanted was you, Trixie.” Katya blushes as she says Trixie's name for the first time. Trixie can feel her heart glowing brightly in her chest, and she pulls Katya closer. “This is too good to be true,” she says. “Can I…” Katya starts to ask, and Trixie already gets it. She nods, and Katya’s fingers brush over her left shoulder, pulling the fabric down enough to reveal Trixie’s soulmark. Katya inhales sharply. “It’s really you,” she says like she can’t believe it.

“It’s me,” Trixie says. She wants to peel back Katya’s shirt to see her own name on Katya’s skin with her own eyes, but for now, this is enough. It’s a weight off her shoulders, having Katya in her arms, and she doesn’t want to let go any sooner than she has to.

But of course, the bell above the door sounds, and Trixie swears she can hear Katya whine. But then Alaska is there, greeting the guest, and Adore is there, tugging them both to the side without separating them. “Now you know who I’m covering for,” Adore tells her. “Get out of here,” she laughs, winking at Trixie, who would absolutely hug her if she had the ability to separate from Katya.

“Come on,” she says, tugging Katya behind her as she heads to the front door, bypassing the startled customer on the way. They run around the side of the building until they are almost to the back, but still hidden from any of their nosy friends who will inevitably try to spy out the back door. Trixie’s back is against the wall, but with the way Katya seems to be swaying on the spot, maybe it should be the other way around. “You okay?”

Katya laughs. “I’m a little shocked.”

“That I’m your soulmate?”

“That I didn’t put it together sooner,” Katya laughs, and Trixie is helpless, smiling back at her. “Trixie. You were so patient with me yesterday, and I was being the biggest idiot.”

Trixie shrugs. “It was cute. Plus I liked making you flustered. I liked seeing how much you wanted me, regardless of seeing your soulmark on who you thought was someone else.”

“I wanted it to be you, Trixie,” Katya admits. She smiles giddily every time she says Trixie's name, and Trixie feels like she’s underwater. They smile at each other, not saying anything until Katya asks, “When did you know for sure? Probably when Adore yelled at me, right?”

Trixie snorts. “I thought I was imagining things. I knew for sure when I saw your note. But looking back, I think I knew from the first moment I saw you. You were all I could think about all week. All I could think about since then. I kept thinking there was no way you were just anybody, and as it turns out, I was right.”

Katya beams. She takes Trixie’s hands in hers, interlocking their fingers. “I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but I think I knew too.” They’re silent and still for a moment as Katya brushes a strand of Trixie’s hair back. “Trixie, I want to kiss you.”

“Then kiss me,” Trixie says, ready to lean in if Katya doesn’t.

Moments later, she can feel Katya’s soft breath against her lips just before she closes the distance between them. The feeling that bursts forth in Trixie’s chest can only be described as genuine bliss. She giggles into Katya’s neck as she pulls back to trail soft kisses from her jawline to her collarbone.

Kissing Katya is like nothing she’s ever experienced.

She pulls her closer until their bodies are flush against each other, relishing in the way Katya is clinging to her for dear life, as though if it weren’t for Trixie’s support, she wouldn’t be able to to stand. Katya releases a breathy laugh, and Trixie moves back to smile up at her.

Their lips meet again, and everything feels right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i'm obviously not great at endings BUT! the good news is that i'm actually planning a followup to this, probably just a oneshot, and it will feature biadore actually meeting and trixya as an actual couple. i haven't written it yet, but i'll try to get it out soon for you guys <3 take care, and as always thank you for all the love!
> 
> oh! and if there's anything you would like to see in the follow up, feel free to let me know!


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